Glimpses Before the Dark
by txalb
Summary: BtVSHP. AU. Post Chosen. Buffy finds a place to recuperate and rest…but there’s a catch.
1. Home

Title: Shadows in the Dark

Author: txalb

Rating: PG-13 (to be safe)

Summary: Post Chosen. Buffy finds a place to recuperate and rest…but there's a catch.

A/N: This is a BtVS/HP crossover. I've never done one of these before and would really like to know what you think. I'm especially concerned with my characterization, so please let me know what you think.

A/N 2: There will be some serious messing with timelines here, but basically when Buffy was making her attack on the First in Chosen, Voldemort was making his attack on the Potters.

**xoxox**

_England, June 2003. Three weeks after the collapse of the Hellmouth._

She warily looked around the room, taking in the sparse furnishings, frigid air, lack of light, and sighed contentedly. _Finally, a place to escape my troubles…at least for a little while. _

She sat her bags down and turned to her companion. "Thanks again for the space. You have no idea what it means to me, not being locked in a house full of girls."

The older man gave a soft chuckle, "I can only imagine…thank God. You know you are welcome to stay here as long as you feel necessary. The students do not know about this place and you are safe from inquiring eyes, although," he said with a wry smile, "I feel somewhat hypocritical offering you any kind of protection."

She couldn't help but grin at that, "Eh," she shrugged, "it's the thought that counts."

He had a knowing gleam in his eyes, "Yes well, when you find yourself settled, I would be delighted if you would join me for tea. Take as long as you like." His jolly demeanor faded into a more serious mask, "And I mean that, take as long as you like."

"You goin' all Giles on me? I swear, what is it with you Brits and your tea? I think they put something in the water."

He straightened in mock indignation, "Tea is the essence of civilization, in my humble opinion."

"That so?" She shrugged, "I'll probably be addicted to the stuff by the time I leave."

He smiled, "I'll leave you to yourself, and never hesitate to let me know if you are in need of anything."

"Thanks Dumbledore. I don't think you know how much this means to me."

"I think I do. Good day Buffy," and he left.

She hadn't brought many belongings along with her, which made unpacking almost irrelevant. But the decision about what to do first was taken from her when she heard the slight taping on the window in the kitchen. She made her way over and opened it to allow the black owl into her home.

She shook her head. _This is gonna take getting used to…again._

Mrs. Summers,

You are cordially invited to attend the celebration of you-know-who's downfall-

She stopped reading, her decision made. Sure the purpose of her coming her was to get some rest and relaxation, and sure she definitely earned it, what with the big crater in the earth that was now Sunnydale, but she was needed out there. Now was the time that the death eaters would be at their weakest. With their leader defeated, and the aurors after them, they were vulnerable, easy pickings.

She probably couldn't do much, but she knew that she would hate herself later if something happened that she could have prevented.

She quickly pulled a black cloak from one of the bags on the floor and wrapped it around herself. In addition, she grabbed the scythe from her weapons chest, which was already placed at the foot of her bed. After grabbing rope she was ready to go. She quietly maneuvered out the door, careful not to make any noises.

She slowly opened her senses, searching for any type of evil that might be near her. After a few seconds of fruitless searching, she opened her eyes and began to run. Hogsmede was the nearest wizarding community and it was there she headed.

It wasn't hard to see with all the fireworks and shouting in celebration. She ignored the partygoers and continued her silent trek through the town. She was so concentrated on keeping herself undiscovered that she almost missed the dark figure ahead of her who was trying equally hard, however unsuccessfully, not to be seen.

_Well isn't this my lucky night_.

She moved closer to the wall, blending in with the shadows, and waited for the unsuspecting figure to pass her. She was fully focused on the figure and could sense the evil emitted by the mark on his arm.

The figure passed by without seeing her. As it passed she grabbed it by the back of its cloak and flung it against the wall, knocking the person unconscious. She quickly made sure they were still alive and pulled back the hood of the cloak.

It was a man who didn't look much older than her. He had dark hair and a nasty looking bump on his head from where it met the wall. She thought he might actually be attractive if his face wasn't marred by a frown. _I guess being knocked out will do that to you._

She reached around for his arm and pulled back the sleeve to reveal the dark mark, and looked it over, interested. She had previously only heard about it and this was her first time to see one. A frown crossed her face as she looked closely at it. She was only feeling evil from the mark, not the man, and it was a strange, almost recognizable, evil. Confused and more than a little troubled she searched her mind for the reason the evil felt so familiar. She racked her brains but it wasn't enough. She sighed and moved away.

After deciding that the man was definitely a death eater she pulled the rope out of the back pocket of her cloak and quickly tied him up, deciding that the best thing to do would be to leave him there for one of the Aurors to find.

After looking around to be sure she wasn't seen she moved away from the man and concentrated once again. After having something to focus on it would be easier to find more, although she knew that the likelihood of actually finding anyone else was slim to none.

She made her way through the darkened streets following the call of darkness and magic, easily avoiding the people shouting for joy for the Boy Who Lived.

**Tbc…**


	2. Lessons

A/N: Ya'll should probably know that these chapters are going to be spaced yearly until I get to the real meat of the story. That won't happen for about seven more chapters. Think of these like glimpses into Buffy's life.

A/N 2: Thank you so much to my reviewers. You guys rock my socks. Really.

**WhiteWolf 3**, you were the first person to review both of my new stories, thank you so much. I really love your fics but I have to admit that I'm a bad reviewer. However you made me feel so guilty, I think I'm gonna have to go and reread your stuff and review it.

**thsutton**, I hope it doesn't bother you too badly, but it really doesn't effect the story, or what happens in any of the books. It was either this or move the Buffy timeline.

**Moony's-Mate**, thank you so much for your interest and for reviewing, it means a lot to me.

**goddessa39**, you have no idea how excited your review made me. I mean I read all your questions and was so happy that it made me write a new chapter. Go you. And I really wish that I could answer some of your questions (and I really really want to, but then what would you look forward to). And about the "Mrs." thing, I wish I could say something really intelligent like I purposely made it that way to thicken the plot later on…but it was really just a stupid mistake. Good catch.

**gaul1**, I really wish I could let you know what happened to that guy Buffy captured, but I'm gonna have to make you wait for it. Don't worry though, it will come out eventually.

**xoxox**

_England, June 2004._

"Ah, Professor McGonagall. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow," Buffy said as she opened her door.

The older woman looked at her over the top of her glasses, "I had some free time and decided to drop by. If you're not free, I can come back later."

Buffy opened the door wider to allow her in and stepped back, "No time like the present. So, what have you got for me?"

McGonagall moved over to the dining room table and placed a small bag on it before sitting. "I have done as you requested and brought the materials that you will need to learn. However, I must caution you. While I am sure you are a capable learner, to attempt to teach yourself is folly. The pronunciation of the text alone is difficult enough without risking the wrong spell." She gave her a hard look, "Do you understand what I am saying?"

Buffy nodded as she sat down in front of the older woman, "Yeah. But, and don't get me wrong, I appreciate your concern, there's no one free to teach me. I have no choice. And this is something that I have to learn."

McGonagall nodded her head as if expecting her answer. Dumbledore hadn't told her much about the woman he let live in this cottage, now that she thought about it, he was oddly tight lipped about her altogether, but what she did know was enough to make her want to help. "School is out now and with all my free time I could avail myself to teach you the materials." She paused when she saw the grin spreading across the younger woman's face, "It will be hard work," she cautioned. "I'll not waste my time on someone who is unwilling to put forth the effort in doing things right."

While Buffy was thrilled about the offer, she couldn't help but hear the wistful tone in the woman's voice. She smiled gently, "The castle must seem quiet without the kids."

McGonagall nodded, her eyes gazing off in the distance, "It is. At first it is a welcome respite. But soon the novelty wears off and I start to yearn for the presence of children."

A moment passed and McGonagall snapped back to the present with a sheepish look on her face. She hadn't meant to reveal how lonely she was during the summer months at the castle. Her tone turned brisk, "So, do you agree?"

Buffy nodded solemnly, "I would be thrilled if you would teach me Professor."

"Right then," she responded, all business, "Here are the materials you will need." She pulled out her wand and tapped it against the tiny handbag sitting on the table. A green spark flew from the tip and fell on the bag. She put her wand away and began to pull impossibly large items out of the bag, books upon books, a box, cauldron, quills, and parchment. There was even a broom.

Buffy couldn't help but laugh as she saw her large table quickly being covered with the items she would need, all being pulled out of a handbag not more than a few inches long. "God, I'm having a total Mary Poppins moment here," she chuckled.

At McGonagall's raised eyebrow she shrugged, "It's a movie I saw when I was little."

McGonagall nodded and continued unpacking her bag. When she pulled out the last item, a tiny box (that looked like it was the only thing that was supposed to fit in the bag), she turned to the younger woman and smiled. "I assume you have been to Ollivander's and have a wand?" she questioned. At Buffy's affirmative nod she continued, "I will not be able to teach you everything. Some subjects you will need outside help with, such as potions. I would include history of magic, but it seems unnecessary. Do you have any plans for the summer?"

Buffy shook her head, "I don't really have all that much of a social life since I moved here. So no, no plans."

"And can you dedicate yourself to your studies and learn the material at a quicker than normal pace?"

She nodded, "Well yeah, this stuff is gonna be way cooler than anything I was forced to learn during High School. Plus, I won't have all those other distractions, you know, like saving the world every night."

"Everything's such a drama to children these days," McGonagall muttered, not noticing the other woman barely stifle her laughter. "Shall we get down to business now or would you like a day to look over the materials?"

She shrugged, "If you're free I've got nothin' better to do."

"Very well then," she reached over and pulled a book off the top of a very large pile, and opened it to the first page before pushing it over to her new student, "I suggest we begin with magical theory. I assume you've had no formal magical education?" When Buffy nodded she continued, her voice easily flowing into a lecturing pattern she used with her students, "There are several differences between wand magic and Wicca magic. I know you have been exposed to both of these types of magic but have never used them. The basic difference is where the power originates from. Wicca, those who are what one would consider good and follow the laws of nature, draw their power from the earth. They understand that there is a balance to things and that that in nature that balance must be maintained."

Buffy glanced at the text in front of her that had a beautiful illustration of the balancing harmonies found within the earth. The world as a whole and those who inhabited it were all connected.

"Those who practice wand magic draw their power from themselves," McGonagall continued. "Wand magic is directed, stored magic that originates from within the witch or wizard. This magic is housed within their very soul. They cannot turn their back on their magic nor can they ever rid themselves of it. To do so is an impossibility. This means that the raw power each wizard wields differs from wizard to wizard. However, unlike Wicca, wand magic depends on more than power to make the wizard powerful. Intelligence and wisdom play a large part of it. The most powerful wizards have spent years studying spells and incantations. It's work, and it's not easy."

Buffy glanced up, confused, "You said that the magic is from an individual inner source." McGonagall nodded, "Does that source ever run out?"

She smiled, Buffy was already asking the right questions, "No. Magical abilities are inborn, they never run out. When a wizard becomes exhausted from using magic for extensive amounts of time it is because they are using their own energy. The magic never 'runs out' only the energy used to direct that power. And this only happens to younger wizards who are not yet used to using their magic. If you ever feel fatigued while practicing your spells, this is why."

Buffy thought for a moment longer, "You also said that _most_ Wicca drew their power from the earth. What about the exceptions?"

McGonagall nodded somberly, "The exceptions are actually almost more than what we would consider the 'norm.' They are those who are considered 'evil' magic users." She reached an arm over and turned the page of the book sitting in front of Buffy. The illustration was sharply distinct from the soothing image on the previous page. What she was looking at was chaotically terrifying. The images bled across the page without any coherence. "Those who ignore the laws of nature and twist them to suite their needs for the moment are those who we call 'evil' Wicca. They ignore the balance that is an innate part of Wicca and the result is usually chaos. They are what most 'good' Wiccas work against."

She broke off when she noticed the far away look on Buffy's face. It was so sorrowful it made McGonagall rethink her preconceived notions of the younger woman. She looked ancient, brittle. Like any movement would break her. She looked more tired than McGonagall remembered ever being at any point in her life.

She slowly reached a hand across the table and lightly touched the other woman's hand. Green eyes snapped to hers and pinned her in her place. The tired woman was gone, and in her place was a predator, ready to pounce. For the first time in her life McGonagall felt a primal fear rise in herself. She felt like cowering in a corner until the danger passed. Not even He-who-must-not-be-named had scared her this way. She blinked, and the threat was gone.

Buffy gave her a small girlish smile that she couldn't help but return, "Perhaps we should stop here for the day." She stood and picked up her bag, Buffy standing with her. "If you want to continue, I brought a copy of _Hogwarts, a History_. As someone who has not spent much time in the wizarding world, you should find it fascinating."

She moved to the door, but before she exited she looked back, "You'll do fine." She ducked her head, as if she had said too much, and left the warmth of the cottage.

**Tbc…**


	3. Dawn

A/N: Thank you so much for all my reviewers. You people say the nicest things. I also want to thank the people who take the time to read my story. Thanks. 

**manticore-gurl071134**: thanks so much. And your question will be answered in the next few chapters.

**WhiteWolf 3**I always thought so too. I think the other Scoobies bought way too much into her I'm-a-dumb-blonde routine.

**goddessa39**: I'm glad you picked up on the wording (and this time it was on purpose). The Dumbledore question won't be answered for a while, but there are hints. And if you keep reading, you're gonna find out about Dawn.

**Musings-of-Apathy**: You thanked me for writing…that's the nicest thing _ever!_ I couldn't get the grin off my face after I read your review. My jaw is starting to hurt.

**Sukera**: Thanks, it means a lot that you reviewed.

**Moony's-Mate**: Awww blushes Thanks.

**xoxox**

England, September 2005. 

"Buffy, is there something you wish to talk about?" Dumbledore questioned as he watched her beat her fists against a large tree in The Forbidden Forest, sending chips of wood flying when she impacted.

"Nothing really," she grunted. "Just workin' out some extra stress." Her mind was disconnected to the pain she felt in her hand. She knew that her knuckles were bloody and raw, cut to the bone, but she couldn't stop her actions. It was the only thing that kept her from leaving and pounding into the person she really wanted to.

"My dear, I believe the tree would be forever grateful if you found some other unsuspecting victim to attack." He was concerned for the woman he increasingly saw as a daughter. He knew that there were things in her past that she had yet to come to terms with, and he had hoped that she would come to him when she was ready to share her burden. However, it had been almost two years since he offered her a home at Hogwarts and she had accepted, and so far there had been no sign of her breaking down the walls she had placed around herself.

"It's her birthday today, did you know that?" she asked without turning, never ceasing her movements.

"It has been a long time. Have you even spoken to her?" he questioned gently, without accusation.

Her shoulders tensed and with one loud grunt she threw all her strength into her next punch. Wood cracked and splintered as her fist went through the center of the great oak she had been pounding into. With a snarl she jerked her hand free and flexed her fingers, ignoring the grinding of bone against bone, and the ripping of tissues.

"Have you spoken with any of them?"

Her shoulders slumped in defeat, all the anger going out of her. When she finally turned to face him fully he saw that there were tearstains on her cheeks.

"I can't."

"Why ever not?"

"It wasn't what they wanted. All of them."

"Are you sure of that?"

She gave a bitter laugh, "They made things clear to me before I left. I thought things would be different, but no. They had already made their decision, and I chose to honor it. It was the least I could do."

"Perhaps we should adjourn indoors for this conversation?" he asked.

She nodded and stiffly began walking in front of him. He watched her back in silence, wondering what was going through her head. It came as no surprise to him that she chose to speak with him in her cottage rather than the castle. She wanted the comfort of familiar surroundings when she bared her soul to him.

She moved through the door without looking back at him and sat on one end of the couch. He looked around the comfortable room and took a seat on the small coffee table in front of her, their knees almost touching. When she didn't look at him he gently took her hands in his own and examined the damage her anger had caused. But when he pulled out his wand to heal her hands, she stopped him.

"You are going to have to let me heal these before I leave," he told her.

"I know, but wait. For after." She had yet to look at him. It pained him to realize that she was using the pain in her hands as a way to punish herself. For what he did not know, but was about to find out.

"Where do you want to begin," he asked softly.

Her tone was dry when she finally answered him, "Personally, I don't see the need. I don't need to bore you with my troubles and I'm sure there are kids misbehaving at the school that you need to see to. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

He shook his head, unconvinced with her argument, "My dear, my schedule is clear. You see the wonderful thing about being the headmaster is that I can delegate undesirable tasks to others. Why do you think that other teachers are heads of the houses and not me?" He gave her a small smile that she did not see, "Please Buffy, unload your troubles on me. I assure you that I will not judge you for your actions, and you have my word that none of this will ever pass my lips."

She finally lifted her head to look at him. His sorrow for her suffering was clear to see on his face, and it broke her heart to see it. She had come to love the old man, much like she once had Giles, but times had changed and that relationship was almost nonexistent. She feared if she told him, he would only reject her, like so many had before him. But she also knew that if she didn't tell someone that she would come apart at the seams. She had already noticed that she was beginning to shut down emotionally, how much longer would it be before it left her even more vulnerable?

"You know so much about my life, but at the same time know almost nothing. It would take way too long to explain everything-"

He cut off her protests with a wave of his hand, "I have all the time in the world."

She sighed in defeat, knowing that she had finally arrived at the moment she had avoided for years. "When you last saw me, I was in a really bad place. You know what happened, and I told you in my letters that things got better, for a time. And I know that you were worried when I didn't write to you that year…but what you don't know is that I couldn't."

She saw the confused look on his face and couldn't hold off any longer, "I died, Dumbledore. When I defeated Glory, I died. I wouldn't-I couldn't sacrifice another loved one for the sake of the world. I did it once and it almost killed me. I couldn't go through that again. So I took the easy way out and took my sister's place. I died to save the world…again. But this time wasn't like last time. There was no one to bring me back. I was dead."

She sighed again and seemed to slouch into herself even more. She spoke very slowly, carefully choosing her words, "But Willow…she just couldn't leave things alone. She knew that I was trapped somewhere in a hell dimension. So three months after I died, they brought me back. But they forgot…oh God-they forgot the most fundamental thing. They didn't dig me out of my grave."

She looked up at his sharp intake of breath. He was clearly stunned. He couldn't believe what she was telling him. She had been dead? He knew now when she had been brought back. From across the world he had felt her friend, Willow, cast the spell to resurrect her, but he couldn't identify it, no one could. It is impossible to change the natural order of things without causing a ripple effect that can be felt by all associated with the supernatural. The magical community had spent excessive amounts of time and manpower attempting to discover the source of the power, but had failed. In the end, the best they were able to do was pray that Voldemort was not responsible for whatever it was that had happened. It would have been an easy matter to find the being responsible for the shift but he now that he knew where it had originated from, it made sense. The Hellmouth would have distorted any attempt to magically find where the spell originated.

He realized with a start that he held her broken and mangled hands in a death grip, then gently loosened his hold on them and gave her an encouraging smile, trying to show her that he was still with her. "And then?"

"And then things got worse." She lowered her voice and looked down at her lap and their joined hands, "I wasn't-I wasn't in hell Dumbledore. I was in heaven. And I know you understand the implications of what had happened without me telling you. I was like a zombie. I only existed, I didn't live."

She glanced at him through her hair and he gave her a sympathetic look, "And then…time passed. It took me a long time, but I slowly learned to accept the fact that I wouldn't be leaving this world anytime soon. I never got over it. I don't think I ever will. But I learned to accept it."

"I had no idea," he whispered.

"And I wanted it that way. You had a war to fight. My problems were small compared to the world, and I know that. Every slayer knows that. It's ingrained it each of us. This is a thankless job, but we do it because someone has to. Because if we don't, then they win, and the world loses."

She pulled her hands out of his and slowly flexed her fingers. They had completely healed since she began speaking. "I didn't have the energy to write you and it wasn't until later that I was able to put a pen to paper."

He gave her a reassuring smile, "I am terribly sorry for the trials you went through. Had I known-"

"There was nothing you could have done," she interrupted. "They had their minds set, and even if they hadn't…well, you couldn't do anything."

"I understand all you have said thus far, but I still don't understand how you can infer from your friends' actions that they no longer wanted you. To the outside observer, it would seem that they couldn't let you go."

His eyes followed her movements as she rose from her place at his side and moved to the fireplace, her back turned to him. "That's because it doesn't end there."

She turned to face him before going on, the fire at her back making it hard for him to see the expression on her face. "Another year passed before the price for my return was discovered. My re-entry to the world gave the First Evil a foothold to affect this world directly."

At his confused expression she clarified, "The First Evil is older than the world. It is an incorporeal being that is the root of all evil, but it was never able to actually do anything…until I came back. Because my resurrection threw off the nature of things, the First was able to choose a human to work through. It did, and began the end of the world."

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, fighting the chill she felt despite the fire. The memory of her failures haunted her to this day. She had never been able to forgive herself her mistakes, mainly because those nearest to her couldn't. She sat down in a chair across from Dumbledore and faced him once again to finish her story.

"Its plan was to first kill off all the potential slayers and then move on to me and Faith. It almost succeeded. We were unaware of the threat until it was almost too late. The potentials began coming to stay with me for my protection. And we-I lost some. I couldn't protect them all. I was placed in charged of several terrified young girls. And some of them died."

There was no need for her to tell him how the death of those girls had cut her deep. Each one of them had been a reflection of her. What she had been before she lost her innocence. To see them cut down before her must have been devastating. "To make an even longer story shorter, I made a decision that I thought was the right one. We were losing time and people. But when I took them out it was a trap. Several of the potentials died, and Xander lost an eye. It was no ones fault but mine," her shoulders slumped. "And then when I realized that I was right the first time, and that we had to go back to that same place, they turned on me."

"My friends, who had been with me since the beginning, who I had protected since I had known them, who had seen me at my worst, the people I thought I could count on, decided that I wasn't fit for the job I had been doing for eight years. All my support was gone in an instant. And then my-" she closed her eyes in pain. "My sister told me to leave her house." Eyes that had been clear until that moment filled with tears as she looked over to him. "I wasn't good enough. I never have been. But I knew what I needed to do. I backed out and let Faith take over."

She cleared her throat and wiped the tears from her face, trying to collect herself before she continued. "It turned out that I was right…but in the end it didn't matter. We defeated the First, but not without sacrifices. The entire town collapsed when the Hellmouth closed. And I thought everything would be all right. That we could put the past behind us. I was looking forward to no longer being the chosen one, but one of many. But life, it seems, has a way of turning on you as well. Dawn and I had settled in an apartment in LA and were beginning to make a life for ourselves. Dawn was enrolled in Hemery, and I had found another job at a nightclub through a friend of Angel's. Things were far from perfect. We had a little money from the insurance for the house, but things were still tight. Dawn still resented me for some reason that I've yet to figure out. I always thought that over time she would let me know, but she never did. Then _he_ came. It had been so long, and I was so surprised, I didn't know how to react."

She snorted bitterly, "He brought a police officer with him along with court documents to my home. The man I hadn't seen or heard from in years came to take my baby sister away. It was a Saturday. I remember that. Dawn was doing her homework early so she could go out with her friends that night, and I was getting dinner ready. And he came to our house and took her away. It was all I could do to keep from ripping him to pieces where he stood. I wanted to show him just how ineffectual that cop would have been."

"I think she hates me. I think that she wanted me to fight for her. But I couldn't. There was nothing I could do. What was I supposed to do? She glared at me as they left. And then, when I went to see her later she refused to see me. She slammed the door in my face and told me never to come back."

He rose from his seat and moved to sit next to her. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. She was so strong, so many people forgot that she was just a girl. He could only imagine the pain she must be feeling, the heartache. The sister she had died for had rejected her.

Dumbledore felt his heart break with her words. He had wondered why it had taken her so long to respond to his invitation, and now he knew. He couldn't believe the callousness of the man who claimed to be her father. He knew that there was nothing he could to ease her pain, but he hoped that he could offer her some small comfort. "Oh, my dear, there was nothing you could do. Give it time. Dawn probably doesn't realize the impact her words had-"

But she cut him off with a wave of her hand, "She knew. Dawn has always known exactly what to say to get the results she wanted. And she wanted me to feel pain. And it worked."

He placed an arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her to him. "Give it time Buffy. It is the only thing you can do."

She collected herself and shook off his arm to stand up, her face and voice suddenly devoid of emotion, "I know. But the pain doesn't go away. It will always be there. And I have all the time in the world. I just-I just hope she doesn't run out of time."

Without a backwards glance she walked through the door to her bedroom and closed the door.

**Tbc…**


	4. Rumors

A/N: This chapter and the next will be much shorter than the ones previously, but I can't help it. It just seemed like the place to stop, and remember that these are only glimpses into her life.

A/N 2: You guys are incredible. Absolutely made my day seeing all the reviews. Thanks so much to: ** Sukera**, **Moony's-Mate**,** Cindy B., ****manticore-gurl071134**and**Musings-of-Apathy**for dropping me a line and letting me know what you think.

**zayra**: Wow! I can't believe you put me on your favorites list. I hope I can keep up with your expectations. I also wanted to say that I'm a fan of "The Golden Phoenix" and can't wait to see more. I wish I could answer your questions because I'm really _really_ excited about this story, but I just can't bring myself to give it away…sorry.

**WhiteWolf 3**: That was actually something I thought about for a while, because it does seem a little unrealistic for that much to have happened in that amount of time. But the way I look at it is that they were just settling down and were getting back on their feet. Dawn was finishing up the end of the school year (seeing as how Sunnydale collapsed before she could) and Buffy was finding a job (through Lorne) to support them. I didn't want there to be too much time before the move because I really do see this as just one bad thing after another for Buffy. I hope I was able to express that in my writing.

**goddessa39**: (passes goddessa a tissue) Yes he is. And I don't think it can really be called "Dawn bashing" if I remain true to her character, and I can totally see her acting like this, heck it follows with the show…all three seasons she was there.

**Anne79**Thanks, and I think I do know what you mean and if not…oh well, thanks anyways. I also wanted to say that I'm a fan of "Need," it's on my favorites list. That was a great update.

**Just Me**: Your review was really flattering and made me smile. I don't even know what to say I'm just so touched. I hope I keep up to that level. Thanks so much, it means tons, believe me.

**xoxox**

_England, August 2006._

"You know," he started, as he slowly sat down in one of the puffy brown chairs she had scattered around, "you're gaining quite the reputation up at the school."

The small smile that played about the corners of her lips as she poured the tea for the both of them told him that she was exactly aware of the rumors about her, and she found them amusing. "Really? That's interesting. I wasn't aware of any of my actions being rumor worthy, considering none of the students have ever seen me."

"Yes, well, as you well know, the smallest things tend to blow out of proportion, and your timely, if mysterious, recovery of Misters Douglas and Beck from the forest last week has the entire school talking."

She looked affronted, "What's so wrong with that? You tryin' to tell me that I should have _let_ the giant spider thing eat them?"

"By no means, by no means at all," he assured her. "But the rumors…well they are not what you would expect."

"How so?"

"Misters Douglas and Beck have been telling everyone who will sit still for two seconds about the new evil that lurks the forest." He smiled at her, "They insist that a _shadow_ was terrifying enough to eat a gigantic spider, and if they hadn't run as fast as they had, they would have been swallowed by the darkness as the second course. The last thing Mister Beck saw as he exited the forest was the shadow entering your cottage." His grin grew wider, "My dear, I have the feeling that you have just become the mysterious evil witch who lives at the edge of the forest."

She couldn't help but laugh at that and pretend outrage, "Don't those kids get warnings at the beginning of term to stay out of the forest?"

"Ah, yes. But then, what would they do all year if they did not test the limitations that are placed on them? I dare say it would make my job even that much harder."

She gave him a stern look, "You know, if you would change the name to something other than 'The Forbidden Forest' I think your problems would be cut in half. Doesn't sound near as interesting if you're telling your friends that you went unscathed in the 'Luminous Forest,' or the 'Gleaming Forest.'

That got a laugh from him, "Be that as it may, I believe you should be prepared in the future for your home to become a challenge or test for the students." He smiled as he settled in the chair with his tea, "Just a warning."

**Tbc…**


	5. Changes

A/N: There will be a small (read: large) explanation posted at the end of next chapter for this one (this will make more sense after you read it). So please don't come after me with the pitchforks until you read it. After that…feel free.

A/N 2: Thanks to **gaul1** (definitely), **Just Me** (glad I can count on you for honesty), **goddessa39** (it will be revealed later and are you feeling well? You didn't ask for B/A…I'm worried), **Gylzgurl** (I've planned out both the Hank and Snape story line, so you'll have to wait and see), **Vld** (that's pretty much the way things are at this point), and **Sukera** (thanks).

**Allen Pitt**: Thanks for the review. I agree with almost everything you said. Buffy definitely got the short end of the stick by the end of season seven. I think there were a lot of open wounds that would have taken a lot of time to heal. You probably won't see the Scoobies at Hogwarts in this story, but in the next one, definitely.

**onlimain**: I'm glad you agree. It was something I was worried about because the other ones were much longer. And yes, I have planned this into a trilogy. At first I was just going to lump it all together but I thought separating it would be a better idea (thus the title change). The second will be in a somewhat scattered form (lots of flashbacks and memories) but the third will be in normal story format. And yes, Harry was a baby. Sorry about that.

**Shabopo**: I completely agree and I hope I'm able to keep you entertained. I read both of your bio pages and it's unbelievable how on the same wavelength we are when it comes to BtVS characters. Your rant…oh my God. You were saying the same words I was saying at the end of the shows. Just goes to show you that people actually read those things.

**xoxox**

_England, December 2007. _

"Do you know what form you have taken?" Dumbledore looked truly perplexed, but at the same time, like a question that had been bothering him had been answered.

"A phoenix," she said in awe.

"Yes. And I assume you understand the implications behind this transformation."

She slowly nodded, still stunned, "They never die, but are constantly being reborn from the ashes of their old life…like me."

He gave her a large grin, a teacher proud of their pupil, "Exactly. I realize that after your studies you know that the wizard does not choose the form they change into, it is a reflection of their souls."

"Yes."

"Then I think I should tell you that never before has anyone taken this form. In fact, it should be impossible for _any_ wizard to transform into a magical creature, only lesser animals."

"I wasn't aware of that."

He gave a small shrug, dismissing her statement, "Well, it has never been done before, perhaps that is the reason it was never questioned."

His bland statement brought her out of her daze and she smiled at him, "You know me, never was one for the rules. Heck, I didn't even get the handbook."

"I know," he nodded at her. "It has always been one of your more charming qualities."

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment or not, but I think I'll take it as one."

"As well you should." His expression turned thoughtful, "You know, the phoenix is one of the noblest creatures out there."

She gave him a look, "I'm not noble Dumbledore. I just do what needs to be done."

He nodded again, like she was proving is point for him, "And what do you think that is but the very definition of nobility? You have accomplished so much in your short life, and you have so much more to look forward to."

He shoulders slumped, "I know. But all I feel is tired. I'm tired of my future and nothing but the expectation of fighting forever."

"My dear girl, you have earned a rest, some sort of respite. Why do you think I invited you to this school?"

"Dumbledore," she said, releasing a short sigh and giving him a sad look, "you know, I hate to break it to you but one of the only reasons I'm here is because the powers want me to help the wizarding community to defeat Voldemort. Your invitation was just convenient."

He was taken back by her comment, "I'm sorry. I had no idea." He reached over and took her hand in his own, a sorrowful expression on his face, "Buffy, you have to believe me when I tell you that I had no ulterior motive by extending that invitation to you. I've known you awhile now and I like to consider myself your friend."

She understood and accepted what he was saying, but she couldn't help but let some of her despair leak into her voice, "You know, a person can only struggle for so long before they forget the reasons that are pushing them. Sure I save the world but what does that mean to me?"

"It sounds like you have no hope."

She gave a small smile and her face brightened considerably, "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I have some hope."

"Really, well inquiring minds want to know, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. As you know, lately I've been doing nothing but study so that I wouldn't be embarrassed by the students."

"Yes."

"Well, I've found that I'm finally up to par with your average wizard. And now I have some spare time on my hands."

"And what, pray tell, do you do with yourself," he asked, amused by the mischievous look on her face.

"I study soul magic."

"How interesting."

"I find it fascinating."

**Tbc…**


	6. Brothers

A/N: Wow! When I wrote that last chapter I never imagined that I'd get such a wide range of responses. And some of you are right on the ball with some of your comments (and no I won't tell you which ones…you'll just have to wait and see). I don't know about ya'll but I'm loving making you wait on the answers…and now I just feel evil…but I can't help it. It's just so fun. However I can promise you that there'll be no lose ends when I'm finished. Everything will be answered. Enjoy.

A/N 2: I can't write a accent to save my life. What you see here is guesswork. Let me know what you think and please tell me how bad it is. If any of you have any idea of how to help me improve, I'm more than happy to hear it. And once again…sorry.

A/N 3: Thanks to all who reviewed: **Vld** (no promises, but I think Dawn will be making an appearance in the third story), **Allen Pitt** (once again I agree with almost everything you wrote…and you'll have to wait and see about the rest), **Sukera**, **General Mac**, **WhiteWolf 3**, **Just Me** (you gave me a great idea that I'm going to have to work in…go you), **onlimain** (sorry but you're going to have to wait a little longer), **goddessa39** (hmm, your reviews always make me grin…I love your enthusiasm. It keeps me going), **Tiffany** (glad to be of service), **Jay** (thank you, but I'm not sure about the inclusion of the Scoobies…we'll just have to wait and see), **thsutton** (I'm glad you like it, and for the other…well you'll just have to wait and see), and **gaul1**.

A/N 4: And on a much more depressing side note, my Uncle is in the hospital and we don't know how much longer he has. That said, I don't know if I'm going to make next week's update, I'm going to have to play it by ear. Sorry for the inconvenience.

**xoxox**

_England, November 2008._

It moved through the forest with ease, its' only focus on the hunt. From tree to tree it jumped, finally pausing to crouch on a concealed branch, high above the ground. Senses expanded, it was aware of everything for miles. It was aware of the animals that roamed the forest as well as the not so innocent creatures that prowled the woods. From the smallest of insects to the larger mammals, it was aware of all. It was about to leave its' perch and move to another section of the forest when something tickled the edges of its senses. It paused and took in the new threat before coming to a decision. It leapt down and flew in the direction of the noise, all attention on its' goal.

"You don't have a choice Hagrid. Yer a shame to your family and I come to take ya back."

"Yer not takin' me Kern!" A thud that sounded suspiciously like a fist connecting with flesh sounded and it slowed its' pace before cautiously entering the clearing.

There was an enormously large man standing over a slumped figure. "Did ya think mother wouldn't hear 'bout what yer doin' here and not have somthin' to say 'bout it?" The larger man glared at the prone figure on the ground before kicking the fallen man.

At the sound of cracking ribs it stepped forward and made itself known. The larger man swung around, fists raised, to face this new threat before stopping in shock, jaw hung open. It didn't register the expression on the man's face, only moved forward faster than the human eye could follow, not even faltering as it scooped up a rock and hurled it with deadly precision between the man's eyes. The large man dropped with a thud and remained there unmoving, the shocked expression still on his face.

A loud groan alerted it to the fact that the victim was still curled up on the forest floor, unaware of what had taken place around him.

Hagrid flinched when he felt the light tough on his arm. It was completely unexpected after the brutal beating he had taken from his brother. _Some brother, _he thought to himself. He slowly opened his eyes to take a look around and was surprised to see a young woman hovering over him. He gingerly uncurled from the ball he was in and tried unsuccessfully to get up, grunting in pain.

"What's a little thing like you doin' in the Forbidden Forest," he asked her as she pulled him to his feet. He was so distracted by the pain that he didn't notice how much of his weight she was holding.

"Lets wait to get you inside before we start with the inquisition," she said as he jerked around, growing angrier by the moment.

"Where'd the blimy bastard go? I'm gonna-" he stumbled and would have fallen if it hadn't been for her support.

"You're gonna calm down and tell me how to get to your place. Then you're gonna let yourself heal." She saw him still looking around for his former opponent and gave up, rolling her eyes, "The other guy's behind you."

They turned and his eyes widened as he took in the fallen giant who was sporting a rock sized lump between his eyes. He spent several long moments connecting things in his mind before looking down at the tiny blonde who was dwarfed by his arm. "Did y-"

"I really think we should get to your place soon. This is the Forbidden Forest you know. If we're attacked I don't think you're gonna be any help. So," she smiled up at him, "where to?"

He stared at her for another moment, slightly dazed, before pointing with his free hand. She nodded and began to move in that direction when he stopped her. He gave a fierce glare at the slumped form of his brother and kicked him as they turned to leave, "Bloody git."

They moved slowly through the forest, trying to keep as quiet as possible, which was made difficult by the constant groaning of Hagrid. A loud barking alerted her to the fact that they were approaching something, which was better than the forest that they had been trudging through. She sighed in relief when she saw the clearing. "This your place?" She nudged him and pointed in the direction of the odd looking cabin on the outskirts of the forest. He grunted in what she assumed was an affirmative and she continued waling.

She narrowly managed to avoid being bowled over by a large very slobbery dog that had enthusiastically jumped up to greet Hagrid when they opened the door, causing him to give a loud shout in pain.

"Don't be such a baby," she muttered when she lowered him to the oversized couch. She looked him over with a critical eye. "What hurts?"

"I'll be fine lass, just gimmie a cuppa tea," he said as he gingerly held his arm.

She rolled her eyes, "Ok, listen up. I know you Brits think that tea is like the ambrosia of the gods, but you're injured and you need help." She saw his eyes begin to close and poked him in his uninjured arm. "Hey! I was talkin' to you. Other than your arm, what's wrong?"

"He got a shot in me stomach an' head. An' I think I got two fingers broke."

She looked him over critically before pulling a small vile from her pock and uncorking it. "Drink this, it'll just take a sec to work."

He eyed the vial suspiciously, "Oh come on. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already."

Hagrid found that he couldn't argue with her logic, although he doubted that a tiny thing like her could hurt anything, much less him. He quickly downed the contents of the vial hoping to rid himself of the awful taste as soon as possible, but he was surprised at the pleasant taste that the potion had. It tasted almost fruity.

Immediately he felt a different type of pain, a pain of healing. The bones of his fingers ground together as they straightened and fused. The pounding in his head ceased as if it had never been. His cracked ribs popped as they healed, and the pain in his kidneys was relieved. He looked at her in surprise. He had never had a potion that had worked so quickly.

"What are you?" he asked her as she casually plopped herself down in the large overstuffed chair that dwarfed her tiny frame and crossed her legs. Fang trotted over and began licking her hand that was hanging over the armrest. She gave no reaction to that other than to turn her hand over so he was licking her palm.

"Now what kinda question is that? I come in here and save your life and you automatically assume that there's something wrong with me. Man, feelin' the love in this room."

"Ugh, sorry 'bout that."

She smiled, "Not a problem, I tend to get that reaction a lot." She leaned forward in her chair, "You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

He fidgeted nervously, "Er, no?"

She gave him a grin, uncrossed her legs, and propped her feet up on the coffee table before her, "You know, it's not every day you see a guy get attacked by a giant. Makes a girl wonder what one would have to do to receive such treatment."

"Well, erm, miss, you see, it's like this. I…well, er…I-"

She waived a dainty looking hand at him to cut off his mutterings, "Here, let me save you the trouble of making up a not very believable lie and introduce myself." She put her legs down and reached out a hand across the table, "Buffy Summers, and you are?"

The half-giant seemed to shrink in his chair when he heard her mention his lying. It was comical to see the huge man almost cowering before the tiny woman with a sheepish look on his face at being caught in a lie, despite the fact that the lie had yet to cross his lips. He took her hand gently, not wanting to hurt her. "Name's Hagrid, pleasure to make yer acquaintance."

She smiled and leaned back in her chair again, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked sweetly.

He slowly shook his head, slightly in awe at the girl in front of him.

"So," she started, "what did tall hairy and huge want with you other than making you his personal punch bag?"

"Erm…"

"Cuz, I'm thinkin' that it wasn't for tea and crackers."

"Erm…"

"And plus, if my brother came around talkin' about some kinda disgraceful thing I did, then proceeded to beat the shit outta me, I don't think I'd be too happy with him." She looked him over, "Of course, my brother isn't a giant."

Hagrid's eyes widened with every word she spoke. She knew he was part giant and she was sitting here with him calmly, not running for the hills. He was at a loss. The tiny blond in front of him was a mystery. "You know I'm a giant?" he questioned.

"Half-giant," she corrected, "you're nowhere near big enough be full giant."

He gave her a curious look, "And yer not afraid of me?"

She shrugged, "No, should I be?"

Now, it has never been said that he was the brightest half-giant out there, but he was able to put two and two together and be completely confused by the outcome. There was no doubt in his mind that she was the reason for Kern's sudden case of unconsciousness, and had his brain been working on a higher level than it had at the time, he would have called her on it. But she was so tiny and looked powerless. The idea that she could do any type of permanent damage to a creature like his half-brother was ludicrous, but there was no other explanation.

Then there was the fact that she was calmly sitting across him waiting on his answer, "Oh, um…no. I'm mostly 'armless."

A smile bloomed on her face, "That's good to know. So what bug crawled up your brother's butt that made him decide he was the boss of you?"

"Well, umm…you see, Buffy was it?" at her affirmative nod he continued, "I'm not exactly like most giants…per say."

"Really?" she asked interestedly as she leaned back in the comfortable chair, "How so?"

"I kinda been 'elpin out Professor Dumbledore 'round the school."

"Ah," she interrupted between his hesitant explanation, putting things together in her head, "and since most giants sided with Voldemort during the war, and Dumbledore was his greatest fear, I'm betting you weren't the most popular person in the family." She nodded her head, "Makes sense."

Hagrid was at a loss. Here was this beautiful young looking girl who nonchalantly brushed aside his past and origins as if it was nothing. Not only that, but she said _his_ name without fear or hesitation. Of course that was when he realized that his mouth was hanging open in an incredibly doltish manner. He snapped his mouth closed with an audible snap and gave his guest sitting across from him a sheepish grin.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, "Did the potion work ok?"

He looked himself over and flexed his muscles, checking for any remaining injuries or pain, and grinned in delight. There was not a twinge to be found. "That's some potion ya got there. I think I'm ready for another go at that bastard. If ya pardon my language."

She snickered, "Not a problem, but if I were you, I'd just leave him there. Odds are pretty good that there's something else out there in the woods that won't be able to pass up that much fresh meat, which will inevitably lead to another struggle where injuries will be had and your brother probably will come out of it a little mangled, but alive. After all, not many things can kill a full grown giant."

Once again aware of his mouth hanging open like a fool, Hagrid could do nothing but stare. He collected himself enough to blurt out, "This is the most interestin' meetin' I 'ave ever been a part of."

He looked her over once again, "Would ya like some tea?"

**Tbc…**


	7. Courtesy

A/N: I am so sorry about the misspelling of Voldemort's name. It's really very embarrassing (not to mention unprofessional). Amy Lee thank you so much for letting me know (and for the helpful hint). I've gone back and corrected that particular error. If any of you notice any other errors, please point them out to me, I'd be happy to correct them. And again, sorry for that stupid mistake.

A/N 2: I need some help. I'm trying to think up a male house-elf name and I'm having trouble. If ya'll could put forth suggestions it would be great…gold stars if I use the name you choose (and who can resist gold stars). Thanks.

A/N 3: You guys keep me writing. Thanks so much to: **CyberAngelOne**, **Sukera**, **Just Me** (thanks, I appreciate it), **MEME**, **WhiteWolf 3** (was it just the swearing that you thought was ooc or was there anything else? And thanks for being honest, don't ever feel bad about that. I _want_ to know), **onlimain **(your understanding truly touched me, thank you so much for your kind words, it meant the world to me), **goddessa39** (you should know the routine by now bg just wait and see), **Amy Lee** (thanks again, and thanks for the wonderful encouragement), **Jay**, **gaul1**, and **Niahm O'Leary**.

**xoxox**

_England, January 2009._

The faint clicking of heels against stone was the only sound that echoed through the narrow corridor. She had been wondering around the maze-like castle for the past three hours and hadn't tired of it yet. It was her first trip to the castle in the six years she had been living on the outskirts of the forest and she was taking her time to explore every nook and cranny she could find. However this particular nook was giving her a really hard time.

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the castle. The front gates were open and there was no real guard or watch dog like she had expected. There was a moment when she wondered if the slightly intimidating looking stone griffins were going to come to life and attack, but she dismissed the thought as a flight of fancy and told herself that she had been spending way too much time around magic.

There was no question about it, as far as schools went, this was definitely one of the more interesting ones. The paintings alone could provide hours of entertainment as she had found when she goaded two of the portraits into an argument. She found it incredibly amusing when the crazy looking knight (whose name she couldn't remember for the life of her) got into a fight with a Harmony-looking princess painted into a tower. Apparently he decided that it was his quest to rescue her but the princess found it offensive that such a young painting, of only two years, would even think about doing her any type of service. And of course being the caring person that she was Buffy couldn't help but aid the poor knight in his quest for his lady love. So when she "slipped" and "accidentally" revealed the best way to climb tower walls, she was really just trying to be helpful. There was no personal gain/entertainment in it for her. And if she stayed to watch the amusing outcome of the encounter, who could blame her? It was really all _very_ innocent.

Sir crazy-knight had been so thankful for her help he had pointed her down to what she had discovered was the mess hall. And wasn't that just all kinds of interesting. It was conveniently empty, so she took her time in examining all the room had to offer. Shockingly enough, when she moved to the table at the front of the room she found what could only be described as a tiny sized cross between a pig and elephant hiding under the table. The thing looked so strange sleeping there she decided she was better off leaving it be and moved on to the next interesting thing the room had to offer. The ceiling. However, as she knew that she would soon be going outside where she would actually see the sky she decided to cut her musings on the bright sun-shiny ceiling short and move on.

She had been surprised to find that the lower levels contained a dungeon, and then wondered why she had ever questioned its presence. It seemed like the kind of thing that Dumbledore would like just for the heck of it. However she did think that the whole thing was just a little clichéd for her tastes. Spooky shadows, low light from the torches, dank atmosphere, a few bones. She kept waiting for the wailing of tortured souls and was almost disappointed when they never came. She then promptly shook her head in disgust at herself for getting way too in the mood of the place and decided that she needed to find somewhere more cheerful.

The view from the roofs, she had discovered, was amazing. In the distance she could see smoke coming from the chimney of Hagrid's hut. The lake was beautiful, and did they know that there was a sea serpent in there? If she looked south, she could barely make out the tree line that surrounded her home. But to her, one of the best things was that she could see the quidich field, and there was a team practicing. Ravenclaw by the colors. She had watched for almost an hour before deciding it was time to move on from her seat at the edge of the roof, her legs swinging over the side. Flying had always interested her, but she never had the chance to learn. From what she understood it was a simple concept, she just needed a broom to work on it. As she had walked away she once again resolved to talk to Dumbledore about getting her a proper broom so she could learn. He would probably be thrilled.

It was as she was turning away to make her way off of the roof that she saw it. When she turned back to look at it more fully she didn't understand exactly what she was seeing. It took her a while to realize what had seen amiss about the situation. The stone making up the roof was patternless with no rhyme or reason, but the area she was looking at was different. She moved closer to get a better look and slowly traced a finger along the straight line that made up one side of the pattern.

There was a spark, a click, and without warning the ground she was standing on disappeared.

Which was how she found herself walking down what seemed to be an endless corridor with no doors or windows, and a very low ceiling. She decided to be grateful that she wasn't claustrophobic…or tall. The only light came from the torches along the walls, but they were spaced so thin that, had she been a normal human, she would have had trouble seeing.

_This is hopeless._

She turned to look behind her, but in both directions the corridor seemed endless. "Alright, I've had it!" She glared at the stone walls of the castle, "You need to open up a door to Dumbledore's office, and you need to do it right now!"

Silence.

"Please?"

The grating of stone moving against stone sounded behind her. She turned to see the wall open up into a small walkway that revealed a door at its end. She couldn't help but be thrown, "You're kidding. Please was all it took?" She rolled her eyes, "Great, I'm in a castle that demands politeness."

She took a step but paused when the walls began to rumble in warning, "Thanks."

The door opened to reveal the most interesting offices she had ever seen. "Hold it missy! What are you doing here?"

The voice had come from a painting on the far wall behind the desk. The man seemed affronted that she was there and she couldn't help but smile at his dismay. "Nothing really. Just wondering around. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know whose office this is, would you?"

"You're in the headmaster's office. So you had better watch yourself."

She smiled and moved to one of the chairs, "This is Dumbledore's office?" She glanced around and took in all the exotic art, stacks of paper, crazy nick-knacks and nodded, "Yep, I could picture him here."

She flopped down in one of the comfy chairs and picked up one of the magazines on the side table. It was an old copy of the _Witches Weekly_. "Make the most Potent Potions" blared across the cover in bright shimmery green ink. The old witch on the cover was winking at her and waving around her wand, emitting red and blue sparks that complimented the green ink. The witch kept pointing to the title.

Buffy shrugged, she had nothing better to do while she waited for Dumbledore, might as well get some interesting reading done. She flipped the magazine open to the correct page and music began drifting from the pages. She closed it in disgust to stop the music and tossed it to the side. The last thing she needed while trying to read was elevator music paying in the background.

She sighed and looked around. Then stretched and stood. She sat back down and started fiddling with her nails. Then decided they were perfect and looked around again. She spotted a bag of lemon drops sitting on the desk and popped one in her mouth. She crossed her arms and slouched lower.

The painting across from her watched all this in amusement. She looked too old to be a student, but she had the same amount of patience as most of them, which is to say none. The next thing she would be doing, he reasoned, was twiddle her thumbs. He snorted out loud when he saw her reach her breaking point which only drew her attention back to him.

"Hey," she started, "You wouldn't happen to know when Dumbledore is getting back, would you?"

The portrait grinned, enjoying her impatience. After all, being left alone in an office all day is much less interesting than it sounds. "Sorry, was he expecting you?"

"No," she said sullenly, then she brightened, "But I do have a standing invitation for tea."

"So he's not expecting you then."

She slouched down again, "No."

"Well then your guess is as good as mine as to when he will return." The portrait proclaimed smugly. He chuckled under his breath at her frown which only caused her to glare at him.

"Hey buddy, I'd watch it if I were you. Maybe you should be a little more polite to your guests, huh."

"Why would I do that?"

"You know, just cuz you're a picture, doesn't mean nothing's gonna happen to you," she said through gritted teeth.

He smirked down at her, sure in his position on the wall, "My dear, I'll have you know that my portrait has been enchanted to remain here indefinitely. I have been in this spot to watch over the last twenty headmasters and will remain here for the next hundred."

"Hmm, is that so?" He nodded, "And you wouldn't happen to be one of those guys that can move into other people's paintings are you?"

"No," he said slowly, suddenly on his guard, "why do you ask?"

She smiled up at him, a picture of innocence, "Oh, no reason. So, can people in other paintings come here?"

"Not into my painting, no. But," he pointed out an empty frame behind her, "they can gain access to this office and the headmaster using that one."

She leaned back in the chair, crossed her legs, and looked over her steepled hands at the guy in the picture, "So you can't leave, but others can come here. Hmm, interesting."

The figure in the portrait was beginning to get a very uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The woman looked positively deviant sitting across from him. "What's interesting," he asked nervously.

"Well, let me put it in simple terms. First, we're gonna deal with that thing called politeness and human decency. You see, I don't think the headmaster would be so thrilled that his main picture guy was being rude to his guests. And I'm sure if he wanted to he could easily remove your not so nice face from the wall."

He gulped and her smile grew wider, "And then the second thing, the one about me not being able to do anything to you." She uncrossed her legs and leaned in closer, "You see, I just spent an hour making nice with this crazy knight guy, who seems to think he owes me something for helping him out." The man in the picture's eyes widened and he gave a small gasp.

"Ah, I see you've heard of my friend the crazy knight," her smile grew absolutely malicious. "I'm thinking, to make up for his debt to me, he might come here and entertain you for a few hours-"

"No," it was a whispered plea.

"Every. Day."

"No! Please don't. You just wait here! I'll call for the headmaster! There's no need for…please just give me another chance. I promise I'll be polite."

Her wicked glee over his frantic protestations was cut short by the trilling sound coming from the window. In a burst of red light a phoenix flew through the window to perch on Buffy's shoulder. She smiled and reached up to pet the magnificent creature's head. "Hey Fawks. How you been?"

The magical bird trilled in response. "Dumbledore, I was wondering when you were going to get here," she tossed over her shoulder.

"Buffy," he was surprised. Her visit was unexpected, and that visibly threw him off balance. He made his way around her to sit behind his desk, "I was unaware you were waiting on me."

She smiled at his troubled look, "Don't worry Dumbledore, it's not the end of the world." She paused and thought it over, "Nope, definitely not. I know the end of the world. This isn't it. This doesn't even make the scale."

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Nah, I was just making small talk with not-so-annoying-anymore behind you." She looked him up and down, "You ok? You seem out of sorts." She rolled her eyes "I can't believe I just said 'out of sorts.' I've really been living here too long. I'm getting too damn proper. I need to use more slang."

He shook his head in amusement at her statement, "I was just surprised that the castle did not inform me that I had a visitor, nothing more."

"You can talk to the castle? I mean it talks back? Weird. Sure it opens a door when I ask I to, but talking back? You sure it's not just one of the voices in your head?" she grinned to show she was joking.

"Positive," he chuckled, "But I am remiss in my duties. Would you like some tea?"

"And we have a new all time record people, exactly two minutes twenty-four seconds until the offer for tea came." She shook her head and tisked at him, "I was really getting worried therefore a second. I mean, it really would have been the end of the world."

"Well we can't have that now can we? Would you like chamomile or peppermint?"

"Peppermint please."

"I should have known." He waved his wand and muttered something she couldn't catch under his breath. Within moments there was a slight popping noise and a house elf appeared with a tea tray. Buffy smiled at the creature. She found them endlessly fascinating after the head house elf had appeared at her home. It was quite an experience that had endeared her to all the house elves.

The elf gave her a huge smile and a small wave before popping back to the kitchens.

"So what brings you to the castle?"

A small smile played at the corners of her lips, "Well, I was sitting there in my nice little cottage and looked out my front window and do you know what I noticed?"

He tried not to smile as he played along, "What was that, my dear?"

"A big honkin' castle. So I said to myself, 'Self, now there is some unexplored territory. And you have several choices here. One, stay here bored outta your mind. Two, go to the forest to work off some steam, but where's the fun in that? You know where everything is. Nothing new there. Or three, check out this new place right next door.'"

"And I assume you chose number three."

"Well I'm here aren't I?"

"And how did your exploration of the castle go?"

"Oh it was very interesting. I especially liked the big guard birds at the entrance."

"I hope they did not give you any trouble."

His words made her look up at him in surprise "You're kidding right? Those aren't just statues? I mean, they looked real enough but..."

"I wonder why the castle did not inform me of your arrival," he mused out loud.

"Why the troubled look? Maybe it just likes me," she smiled at him.

"Perhaps," he paused and cocked is head to the side like someone was whispering in his ear, "Perhaps you are right."

"And what's not to like. Of course if I get any more lessons in manners from a big stone building I might go insane."

"We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

"Was that sarcasm mister?"

"Most definitely not."

"Alright then. So about the dining room…"

**Tbc…**


	8. Dare

A/N: For all those wondering…yes. I do have a pairing planned…that's all…alright, alright, I'll throw you a bone. It's one of the pairings that's been mentioned in the reviews…that's all you get. But it doesn't come into play until the second story and then there are circumstances that will be confusing and there's a very good reason I chose the pairing (besides the obvious…you know, me being the author). You'll just have to wait and see.

A/N 2: What? No house elf names…tsk tsk tsk, for shame. Oh well.

A/N 3: My reviewers! I love ya'll. Really, I do. Thanks to: **mysticallove**, **anon** (ooh, good question. I have the picture in my head but I didn't think to write it out. I'll have to do that in the next story when she changes), **Just Me **(see above mentioned author's notes, but if you really, really want to know send me a personal e-mail and I'll get back to you), **gaul1**, **Anne79**, **godessa39** (they won't get to the school until chapter 11…and I make no promises that they'll meet…especially since I've already written that chapter and therefore know), **Sukera**, **onlimain** (I'm so glad you loved it so much…I must be getting better. Yes! Go me! And nice catch with the Snape thing, I'm glad you noticed, but you won't really see anything about it until the next story), **thegirlwhocantcry** (I'm glad you like it, and thank you for your kind words, it means a lot to me), **Jay**, **Lightdemondarkangel**, **AnimeHanyou39**, and **sparky24** (there are 15 chapters in this, one for every year. I think of this like a huge prologue, it was just too big to add the rest of the story to it so I let it stand on its own).

A/N 4: About next week's update...two words for you (and all it implies):

1) Finals.

2) Week.

**xoxox**

_England, March 2010._

_crack_

"Shhh! You want to get us killed?"

Three figures crouched low in the shadows provided by the outer wall of the castle.

"Don't glare at me _Samantha_. I'm not the idiot who stepped on the stick."

"Shut-up! I didn't mean to. And it's _Sam_ you loser."

"Brian, Sam! If the two of you don't be quiet I'm gonna leave you here."

His two companions looked down submissively and mumbled a quick "Sorry."

Sam reached out and tugged gently on his sleeve, "Sean, I don't understand why we have to do this."

He glared down scornfully at her, "Don't tell me you're getting all girly on me now."

"No," she looked towards their destination, "but this just seems so pointless. I mean come on. We have to knock on the door of some old cabin. What's the point?"

"Sam," Brian spoke up, "you heard what those third year Ravenclaws said. We _have_ to prove them wrong." He looked at Sean for confirmation.

Sean nodded, "We can't let them get away with insulting the Hufflepuffs like that."

Sam took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, "You're right. We need to do this. I'm with you."

"Let's go," Brian said in a low voice.

The three crouched down lower in the shadows and gathered their cloaks about them hoping to blend into the darkness even more. They silently ran towards the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, praying no one would notice them.

Sam tried to ignore the pounding of her heart as she neared the edge of the forest. It wasn't necessarily that she was scared of the forest…alright she was lying to herself. She was terrified. She was sure something growled and she wanted nothing to do with whatever was lurking there, ready to pounce on her with their large claws, ripping her to shreds…

She let out a small whimper.

Next to her Brian wasn't doing any better. His palms were sweaty and he knew any minute now one of the teachers was going to step out of the shadows and give them detentions for the rest of their lives. He would be stuck at school forever. Filch would hang him by his toenails from the ceiling. He only had one year left! He couldn't stay here forever! Damn those Ravenclaws for running their mouths. He could be peacefully sleeping right now but no, he had to stick by his friends. Stupid loyalty.

He could practically feel his toes losing circulation already.

Ahead of them Sean swallowed deeply. It was really his fault they were in this mess, although he had conveniently shifted the blame to the Ravenclaws. They had been blathering on about how no one dared to go near the cottage at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They were going on and on about the facts. As if that really mattered. They lived in a magical community and they thought that nothing was weird about the cottage. All they had was rumor and speculation. No real hard evidence. He had been tired of listening to it. So maybe he should have walked away, but that wasn't really his style. And so maybe he shouldn't have dragged is friends into his mess, but he couldn't help it. And when that cocky Abigail Winters had turned to him with that superior smirk on her face and said that he was too much of a coward to actually go and see the cottage himself…was he supposed to walk away from the gauntlet that had been thrown down? He thought not!

But now he was starting to regret the decision to take the dare that had been given. The forest was just plain spooky, and he was sure he saw something moving in the darkness. He slowed down and paused to take a closer look, not paying attention to his surroundings, concentrating solely on the forest ahead of him.

He suddenly felt something slam into his back and he let out a shout of fright before getting control of himself and turning to glare at his companions. "You two bumbling idiots are going to make something out there find us," he hissed.

This time his friends didn't back down, "We're not the ones who yelled, mate," Brian said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah," Sam added, "You want to warn someone when you're going to stop for no good reason. It's dark. We can hardly see anything, give us a break."

"Sorry guys, this place just creeps me out."

He couldn't see Sam roll her eyes in the dark, "We're in the same boat here."

"Lets just get this over with alright?"

"How far away from the place are we?" Brian asked.

Sean looked around in the dark and spotted what seemed to be a run down shack in the darkness. He pointed to get his friends' attention, "Right over there."

Their eyes followed where he pointed and Sam asked, "And all we have to do is grab something from the inside and that's it, right?"

Sean nodded, "That's all they said."

"I don't like this," Sam stated, "What about the witch that lives there. Do you know what she did to the last student that trespassed? I do, and I don't want it happening to any of us. Heck I wouldn't wish that fate on a Slytheren."

"Sam, do you really think Dumbledore would let someone that dangerous live here for so long? And anyways, the place looks abandoned. It's just rumors and speculation."

Sam rolled her eyes, "Perhaps you didn't notice the fact that we're standing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A very dangerous place that Dumbledore has no problems in allowing to remain standing. He just gives a warning every year and leaves it at that."

"Yeah," Sean argued, "but has anyone actually died?"

She gave him a look that clearly showed him what she thought about his intelligence level, "Have you not heard of the Lewinski's?"

"That's just a rumor."

"No it's not. My sister was friends with Kristy before she disappeared."

"Give me a break, do you really expect me to believe that the school would still be standing if there was any real danger in the forest. Come on," he pleaded, "Lets just get this over with so we can get back to the dorms."

She sighed and nodded, "Alright, lets get this over with. Brian, come on…Brian?"

"Oh my God."

"Sean, where the hell did he go?"

"There's no way he could have just disappeared. He was right here, where could he have gone?"

"Brian this is _not_ funny. Come out now!"

"Shh, not so loud. She'll hear you."

"What kind of idiot are you!" she hissed at him. "_She_ obviously took him, and we're next. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. This was all _your_ stupid idea that's going to get _me_ killed! Why did I have to listen to you?"

Sean hopelessly looked around for his missing friend, "People don't just disappear."

"Hello! Magical community. They disappear all the time."

They were both so immersed in the fear they felt that they never heard the snap of a twig breaking behind them. "We need to get out of here."

"I'm with you there, but we can't leave Brian behind."

Sam looked at him incredulously, "Are you serious? Look. What are we going to be able to do? We need help, and backup. There is no way we are going to be able to search for him on out own."

Her panic was not helping Sean stay calm. He took a deep breath to stop himself from hyperventilating, but it didn't work. "Alright, lets go back to the dorm and get some help. He'll be alright," he said unconvincingly.

Sam nodded quickly, grateful that they were leaving the forest. After all, like Sean had said, no one really died in the forest. And Dumbledore would never let some crazy person live in the woods where there was clearly a risk to the students. She just ignored that nasty rumor about the Lewinsky's. After all, her friend could have been lying. Yes, she tried to convince herself, it would all be fine.

They made it back to the common room in record time after quickly shouting the password (fides) to the grouchy painting of a stick thin old man in a bed attempting to get some sleep. They rushed past the few people studying after seeing that there were only first years there. They would have been no good at all. What they need were some huge seventh year quiddich players…hopefully a beater.

They decided that they would go their separate ways after getting some supplies that would help them find Brian. Sam was almost to her room when she stopped in disgust and realized that she had no idea what they would need to save a friend from the grip of death by an evil witch, and really, after she had thought about it, what was going to be more helpful than their wands?

Obviously she had gained the capacity for thought now that she wasn't screaming in terror. She ruefully shook her head and trudged back to the boy's section to find Sean when a piercing scream sounded.

It was a testament to the school that none of the students, other than her who had picked up the pace sure the witch had found them and was eating Sean as she stood there, reacted to the shout that had been released. It had become a normal occurrence.

She skidded to a stop at the open door to the room that Sean and Brian shared and her jaw dropped open in shock. There was Sean with his mouth hanging open, much like hers, pointing a shaky finger at what he was sure was an apparition.

It was Brian, rolling out of bed, having been awoken by the screams of his roommate, looking like he had just had the best sleep of his life.

The finger started shaking even more, "How…you- how can…I don't-"

"How the bloody hell did you get here! I can't believe you would pull something like that," Sam, apparently, didn't have the same problems Sean did with speaking. "You just left us there to worry over your sorry hide while we were thinking that you had been killed or eaten!"

Brian groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes before sitting up in bed, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't even try to pretend you don't know what's going on. Do you think this is funny because no one else does!" Sam was on a roll, "Of all the inconsiderate, selfish, _un_amusing stunts you could have pulled and you do something like this. Do you know how scared we were? Do you! We thought you were dead!" She gave him one last scathing glare before throwing her hands up in the air and stomping off, "Men!"

Sean was finally able to throw a coherent sentence together after hearing Sam's rant, which he completely agreed with, minus that last part, and glared at Brian who was looking decidedly scared of the female species, "What happened?"

"Listen man, I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know why the hell I'm getting yelled at and I don't really appreciate it." The more he thought about it the angrier he became. Who were they to yell at him? It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong.

"You really have no idea what's going on, do you?" Sean asked.

Brian just shook his head, "What's the last thing you remember?"

He thought for a moment and tried to rub the headache that was beginning to form away, "We were making plans to go to the cottage. You were supposed to wake me so we could go tonight." He blinked and looked hard at Sean, "Hey, why didn't you wake me up. Now the Ravenclaws will think we're soft."

Sean just shook his head in disbelief and spoke very carefully, "We did. You, Sam, and me all got up tonight to go to the cottage. Then you disappeared and we came back here to look for you."

"What are you talking about? That never happened. Trust me, I would remember."

"Oh, it happened alright, and either you're the best actor I've ever met or you really have no clue."

"I'd go with option number two if I were you. Although that does explain why Sam was so mad." He leaned back in the bed and thought about it for a second before realizing what it meant, "Oh man! Do you realize what she is going to do to me for revenge?"

Sean just smirked, "Yep, and boy am I glad that I'm not in your shoes right now. You can anticipate at least a month of watching your back. And if you're lucky, she'll catch you early on and whatever she does will appease that righteous indignation she's feeling right now." He patted his friend on the back in mock sympathy, "The best of luck to you," he couldn't hold in the snicker. "You're going to need it."

Brian just groaned and rubbed at his temples harder, "I don't think I can deal with this right now."

"Looks like you don't have a choice."

He sighed, "I wonder what happened. You said that I really was with you tonight and I just disappeared?"

Sean nodded, "We were right about to go inside the cottage when we looked back and you were gone."

"Hmm. This is going to bug me until I figure it out."

"Speak for yourself. I'm just happy we all survived." He looked Brian up and down, "And in more or less one piece."

He moved to the door, "I've had enough adventure for one night. I'm going to see if I can find anything to eat, then I have to study for that Divination test. Want to come?"

Brian shook his head and waved him away. The last thing Sean heard as he was walking away was Brian muttering to himself about staying away from mysterious blonde women who were too attractive for their own good.

He ignored it as the ramblings of a mad man.

After all…some things are better left unknown.

**Tbc…**


	9. Feast

A/N: Well, pollyjuice potion seems to be a popular vote. Thanks for letting me know what you think: **mysticallove** (it's one year per chapter, and don't worry about it), **WhiteWolf 3**, **goddessa39**, **onlimain**, **Jay**, and **Just Me** (happy to be of service).

**xoxox**

_England, August 2011._

"Ahem."

The ruckus died down and the students expectantly turned to the headmaster's table.

"Welcome, students, to what promises to be another successful year at Hogwarts," the old man's eyes twinkled merrily at the new students as he gave his welcoming speech to start off the year.

"As a special announcement, it has been decided by the faculty that punishment by hanging students to the rafters by their toes is inhumane, and consequently it has been taken off the lists as possible reprimand," he paused to let the students have their sighs of relief before continuing. He was, much to his delight, forced to pause longer as the students took the opportunity to give a loud cheer which turned into a deafening roar that had Filch at the end of the head table glairing at them.

"And now the most important thing of all. Enjoy."

With that he sat down and food appeared on the tables. The volume picked up as the students eagerly caught up with their fellow classmates, sharing tales of the summer.

But at the head table there were reunions of a different sort going on.

A space had been made at the Headmaster's right, and in what was typically Professor McGonagall's seat was a young, perky blonde woman who smiled as she looked out on the students beginning their new year.

"So what's your bet this year Dumbledore?" she asked.

"My dear if I had to guess, I would have to say fifteen."

She snorted, "Are you joking? Please," she turned to the right and addressed the older woman sitting next to her, "What do you think, Minerva?"

"Hmm, a new year, the O'Connors have graduated, only a few of the first years look overly gullible…I'd have to say twelve."

"Oh, come on! Twelve? Is that it? Severus, you want in on this?"

The dark haired man on Dumbledore's left attempted to hide a grin under the pretense of wiping his mouth. It wouldn't do for the students to see him smiling the first day of term…or any day for that matter, "I try not to uselessly throw away good galleons, especially since you always seem to win."

"Aww, come on Severus, don't be such a spoil-sport. Let loose a little. And you never know, I might lose."

His only reply was a stern look that never reached his laughing eyes.

"Okay, okay. I'll win, but I have to have something to rub in your face by the end to the year," she cajoled. "How else am I gonna get my kicks?"

He sighed and conceded with a wave of his hand, "Eighteen."

"Yes! That's the spirit Severus!"

"And you, Buffy?" Dumbledore asked, "What is your wager for the term?"

She gave a sly smile, "Oh I'm bettin' twenty-two of those little rugrats make it my way before the year ends."

"So many?" the older woman questioned.

"Yep, more every year." Her face turned pensive, "You would think that the rumors would deter the kids, but they just seem to be drawn to the forbidden like moths to the flame."

Snape snorted from the other side of the Headmaster who was watching in amusement, "Therein lies the appeal." He paused in thought, "Which is one of the reasons we should never have taken that punishment off the lists."

"Oh give me a break!" She laughed and gave him a bemused look, "You're gonna sit there and tell me that you've actually let Filch hang students from the rafters by their toes?"

McGonagall chuckled under her breath at the question. It looked like her fellow professor was going to once again lose the battle to uphold his unapproachable demeanor to the blonde.

It had become a common occurrence.

Snape looked affronted and straightened his shoulders in righteous indignation, "That is completely beside the point. Now I have to think up new threats to keep them in place."

"Nah," Buffy inserted, "just do your billowy-cloud-of-death entrance and you'll have 'em right where you want 'em."

The professors within earshot laughed at her statement and turned to concentrate on the meal in front of them.

Buffy smiled, content in her decision to attend the beginning of the year feast. Dumbledore had been asking her to come for years, but something had always held her up, whether it was her own insecurities or demonic/magical trouble. However, this year was going to be different.

She sighed, the inactivity getting to her. She could only sit still at these shindigs for so long before she felt the need to move. She didn't even realize she was tapping her fork against her plate until McGonagall reached over to still her hand. Buffy looked down sheepishly and sat it down.

She nearly jumped out of her chair when she felt a small nudge against her leg. The place was really getting to her if she was shocked by something like that. She quickly glanced around at her companions to find the culprit but everyone was either talking with someone else or concentrating on their food.

As discretely as possible, she moved aside the heavy tablecloth to see what had bumped into her and blinked in surprise when she was faced with a small pink head with an elephant-like nose looking at her beseechingly.

"Hey Norbert," she whispered, trying not to draw the attention of the people on either side of her.

She smiled and covertly tossed a morsel of food to the tiny pink cross between a pig and elephant which she had playfully named several months ago.

He seemed to really like her.

He rested his chin on her knee with his trunk laying across her thigh and opened his black eyes wider, the begging expression one she couldn't ignore. "Aww, here you go." She held out the rest of her potato which he dexterously took from her hand with his trunk before buzzing at her in appreciation and ambling away.

"You know," a voice at her shoulder said, making her jump, "I think he likes you."

"Dumbledore," she hissed under her breath, "don't do that."

His eyes twinkled merrily, "You seemed quite engaged with our resident Flop'kilops."

"But he's so cute. How can anyone resist a face like that?"

Dumbledore pointed a narrow finger down the table where Professor Flitwick had squeaked and fallen out of his chair, cursing the animal under his breath.

She laughed at the display and watched as the extremely short professor climbed back into his chair after shooing the creature away.

She caught Dumbledore's eyes and saw that he too was trying not to laugh. "And Buffy… 'Norbert?'" he questioned.

"He looks like a Norbert to me," she defended.

"I do not think anyone has thought to name him. We have been remiss in our duties." He smiled, "Norbert it is."

He laughed again and was soon engaged in a discussion with Snape, leaving her to entertain herself.

Buffy concentrated on her plate but pushed her senses outward and let the noise rise around her, listening to the different conversations at the house tables.

"…ad wouldn't let me go."

"Too bad, we had a blast."

"Marks weren't high enough…"

"No way! That didn't happen, you're lying."

"I'm completely serious. Talk to Sam, she's a seventh year, Sean graduated last year."

"…haunted…"

"…kinda disappointed."

"Because the last castle/school that you went to was so much cooler?"

"Why are people glairing at us?"

"We're Slytherin. We are above them"

"Why?"

"We…"

_I guess that's what nurture over nature looks like_, she thought to herself.

"…commonly known fact."

"Anyone else freaked out by a hat telling us what to do?"

"No."

"…the poltergeist you need to watch out for."

It was the conversation of a seventh year red head trying to impress a girl that truly caught her attention. The brunette had mentioned how adorable two of the first years were and her companion had decided it was her duty to warn her away.

"They only look innocent. Don't let the wide eyes fool you. Behind those childlike expressions lay deviant minds hard at work on how to create the most chaos with the least amount of work, not that they mind putting forth the effort. Those little buggers have it down to an art."

"I don't believe you. None of your other brothers are 'deviant,' heck just look at Percy."

The boy mockingly hung his head in shame, "I know. There is…no excuse for Percy."

She giggled and scooted closer, "There's one in every family. But hey, how did your parents take you getting Head Boy."

"They were thrilled. So proud they got me these new robes."

He extended an arm to display the black robes and she took the opportunity to reach out and run her fingers up and down the length of his arm…just to feel them, "And they look so nice on you…"

Buffy rolled her eyes and stopped listening the last thing she needed was to hear corny pick-up lines from hormonally driven teenagers. _And could they get any more obvious._

Her gaze wondered down to the other end of the Gryffindor table and she spotted the two he had to have been talking about. First year twins. And from the look of it, she would have to agree with the boy. Those two had the look in their eyes that was a loud and clear signal to teachers. Trouble makers on the premises. It was all in the eyes…and the overly innocent expressions. They needed to tone it down to be truly effective.

She'd be seeing them soon.

She leaned over to McGonagall and whispered, "Is it just me or does there seem to be an overabundance of red-heads at the Gryffindor table?"

"Oh no, those are the Weasleys. Not even all of them." She glanced over at her friend, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason, but three of them will make it to my place before the end of the year…the twins twice."

McGonagall snorted into her glass, "How are you so sure about these things?"

"What can I say?" She shrugged, "It's a gift."

The conversations continued around them, but no one ever connected the small blonde with the rumored evil in the cottage.

**Tbc…**


	10. Centaurs

A/N: I'm so sorry people. I went on vacation to DC to see my friend graduate from college and when I got back I lost my steady work force and not to mention my train of thought. One of the only reasons I was able to get this chapter out was by reading back over the reviews. You guys have no idea how much they mean to me. Enjoy.

A/N 2: Thanks to: **Anne79** (Yes I did know, and that's one of the reasons this fic is listed as AU. I swear that other than the fact that she won't be paired with anyone in that class the year has no effect on the story line. I could just as easily stated one year later and have done with it. So really, no big), **mysticallove**, **gaul1**, **Anne**, **Just Me** (Really…thanks, and I'm sorry to say that it's going to be quite a wait but I promise to write it), **onlimain** (when I eventually write it, it will be like a memory or flashback), **Allen Pitt** (right on the money with Sirius…but in three), **godessa39** (I made him up, and to be honest I didn't even remember that that was what Hagrid named his dragon…but then I thought of a way to incorporate it into the story so…no big. I am surprised that no one called me on it though), **chazza**, **Jay**, **Musings-of-Apathy** (I promise everything will be explained eventually), **Nomanic**, and **Sarah**.

**xoxox**

_England, May 2012._

"This is not good Marius."

"I know. It has been long in coming," the calm, deep voice echoed in the clearing.

"Is there nothing we can do?"

A tired sigh was his only response. They knew what was coming. It was only a matter of accepting the inevitable. The two stood in silence out of respect of what they had discovered, the only sounds those of the forest and the soft thudding of hoofs shuffling against the ground.

The third, the youngest and still considered a child, looked on and remained silent, his tongue pressed hard against his teeth in an attempt to keep the words from spilling from his lips. Words of protest at the thought of doing nothing. But it was not the centaur way to interfere. They had remained passive observers throughout the centuries, never partaking, only watching.

"How much longer?"

"Do not worry yourself of what is to come Kestil. What will be, will be."

The younger bowed his head at the wisdom of the elder and held his peace, his gaze drifting back up to the sky that had guided them to this moment in time. Such an odd discovery that would urge them to this end. Come what may.

As he was prone to do, because of his youth and impatience with what is, the youngest began to drift away from the other two and their contemplation of the stars that had set them on this path of self-destruction.

The clearing was not a large one, and was one of the few that could be found within the forest boundaries. The radiance of the full moon was the only light that shone, illuminating the bare ancient stone alter in the middle of the clearing, but this night, the stars were exceptionally bright and the clearing was lit almost as if it were daylight.

But in this clearing, at this time, the youngest was bored. Not truly old enough to be considered an adult, but no longer truly a child, he was balanced between the two and at times it felt like it was ripping him apart.

He was constantly berated for being distracted for the beauty of the now instead of the possibilities of the future. But he couldn't help it. The world held so much wonder in his young eyes and there was so much he wanted to see before he was forced to watch the sky for what was to come like all the others had.

There were no words to voice what he wanted to say. For the centaurs were a people set in stone, slow to change and resistant to the new. They wouldn't understand his desire for the moment. They wouldn't understand his love of the now. They who were stuck in the future and its many possibilities.

He wandered away from the alter and the two adults with their eyes glued to the stars and made his way to the edge, stepping a lightly as possible. It wouldn't do for one of the adults to notice his actions if he didn't want to be reprimanded for his lack of concentration.

The sound of the snapping of a twig cracked through the clearing, shattering the silence, but he was the only one who reacted to the sudden noise.

He shot them a quick glance, but from their relaxed postures and unconcerned gaze, it was as if they didn't hear it. But that was impossible.

His eyes scanned the darkness of the forest but saw nothing.

All was still.

His tail twitched as he gazed into the darkness, searching. Something felt off.

Something felt…

He was rammed to the ground and fiery pain raced through him as a clawed hand scoured deep gouges in his back. He landed awkwardly, his arm twisted beneath him and he heard a sharp, sickening crack as the bone gave under their combined weight. Pain ricocheted through him as he twisted in a panicked attempt to get his hoofs under him to stand, but the thing pressed heavily against him, restricting his movement.

His motions slowed and with one final grunt of effort he stilled.

And did nothing.

He didn't even move when the thing got off him.

He only laid there wide eyed. Paralyzed.

His eyes drifted shut and he vainly attempted to distract himself from the pain that was radiating from his arm and back. Without the ability to look around he couldn't even see what was going on behind him. He didn't know if Marius and Kestil were alright.

_Oh bright stars let them be alright._

His mind was clear but he was beginning to feel sleepy. The venom of the creature was working its way through his system, slowly shutting down his body's natural functions. And he was slowly dragged down to unconsciousness by the pain and fear.

The first thing he became aware of was the lack of pain. There wasn't even a twinge anywhere. And considering the pain he felt when he lost consciousness that was saying something. The second thing he noticed was the pleasant taste of fruit in his mouth, a taste he had always enjoyed but rarely gotten a chance to partake in. If he didn't know any better he would have thought the entire thing had been a dream, but that notion was quickly cast aside when he opened his eyes and saw that he was still in the clearing with the stone alter.

But now there was something dead at the base of it. It was truly hideous. A clawed monster that resembled the giant spiders that resided in the darker parts of the woods, but that comparison only went so far. It had eight legs, yes, but also stood like a man. It was a light grey color that matched the stone of the alter at first glance. But when his gaze drifted lower he saw that its lower arms that were splayed across the ground matched the coloring of the grass it rested on. It was a creature with the ability to camouflage itself to blend in with whatever it was standing near. No wonder he hadn't seen it.

His head jerked around at the sound of raised voices and he slowly stood, remaining in the edge of the clearing, trying not to draw attention to himself lest they turn on him.

The argument had clearly been going on for some time and it was the first time he had seen his teacher in such a state of rage.

"What are you doing? It was my time!" Kestil shouted.

It was a small human woman he was yelling at in his anger. She stood there calmly facing him down, a look of icy disdain on her face. In hand she clutched a weapon of exquisite beauty that was clear to see even from were he was standing. She held it like it was a part of her, merely an extension of her arm.

"You fool," she spat out. "Have you really become so fatalistic that you were just gonna wait for your death? You have to fight! Even if there's no hope."

"You don't understand."

"Of course I understand!" Kestil snorted in clear disbelief at her assertion. "You don't believe me? You think I don't know what it is to foretell your own death? You're a fool! The centaurs are spoken of as a wise race, but all I see before me are squabbling children!" She glared at them both, "Nothing is set in stone! Not even prophecy. And you should know that."

The eldest was pushed to the side by Kestil, who in his anger was unable to see anything other than the small woman who instigated such fury in him, "Your kind aren't welcome here," he snorted angrily.

"Are you really going to let yourself be ruled by the prejudices that destroyed the wizarding world?" She mockingly shook her head, "And I thought you were above that."

Uncontrollable rage rolled through Kestil, and for the first time in his life he felt like lashing out in anger at another creature. The control he had strived to maintain throughout his life was gone at her words and he was unable to rationally hear what she was saying. He pushed past Marius and moved in closer to the human, towering over her small form. "You know nothing!"

"I know more than you think."

"Kestil!" Marius shouted in a futile attempt to reign in the younger centaur's anger, "This is getting us nowhere."

But he didn't respond, only stepped in closer, trying to push her back and intimidate her.

She rolled her eyes, "You know, I could probably find a spell that could disintegrate you into less than ash," she said offhandedly. Her expression turned thoughtful, "I wonder what 'less than ash' looks like."

"You don't scare me Slayer."

"Oh really," her voice turned hard, "That note of fear in your voice says otherwise."

"Enough." Marius reared back on his hind legs and slammed them back into the soft earth trying to separate the two angry beings. "We are getting nowhere by arguing in this manner." He paused looking between the two of them, his arms outstretched as a physical barrier to keep them apart. He turned his attention back to Kestil wanting to be sure that he would take no more rash actions. This night was quickly becoming a disaster, and he had seen things he had never thought to see. Like his old student losing his temper at the cutting words of a mortal. To lose the balance of self was to lose the connection with the stars. And that was something that could not be risked.

Finally assured that the younger centaur would remain in place he turned to the young woman. "Why have you come here this night Slayer? The centaurs have no quarrel with you. We have let you roam these woods which we have claimed as ours without protest. You have been given greater leeway than we have ever granted anyone. You have been free to go where you would because we know what you are and what it is you do." His tone turned brittle and his eyes darkened as he continued, "But here, in this place, you have interfered in something that was meant to be, and in doing so have irrevocably changed the course of events that have been destined to come to pass."

She cut him off with a lazy wave of her hand clearly unmoved by the words he had spoken, "First, you're right. I've got no problem with the centaurs. I never had. I stay out of your way, you stay out of mine. I know the score. But this," she gestured to the stone alter and the creature crumpled unmoving at its base, "this goes outside that." She gave him a hard look, "And you know it."

"We had everything under control," Kestil spat out from over Marius' shoulder, trying to get around the elder.

She rolled her eyes, "Right, you had everything so under control that you were all going to die. I see. Brilliant plan there. But from the looks of things, it wasn't you that was supposed to die." Her gaze drifted over to the forgotten centaur child standing in the shadows, ignoring the sharp gasps that confirmed her suspicions. She studied him with pity in her eyes. Not pity for the child, for that would have been degrading, but pity for the fact that the people he trusted were so eager to hand him over to death in the name of destiny. She turned her attention back to Marius and Kestil and her tone turned mocking, "I'm glad that the centaurs have become so reproductive that they are able to sacrifice their young in the name of the stars."

"You have no idea-" Marius began.

"Don't I?"

"You think you know all?" Kestil shouted. "You know nothing!"

"Let me tell you what I do know." Her tone was absolutely poisonous and her glare was enough to make them fear for their lives. It cut through the fury and the rage that was clouding their minds and ever so slowly, fear began to take root in their minds as they truly realized who it was that they were dealing with.

The Slayer.

As she continued speaking they found that they could not tear their eyes away from her powerful gaze no matter how they tried, "Your unrelenting belief in the stars and the truths that are written in them will cause your downfall. Not because they lie, but because it's _you_, fallible creatures, that are attempting to interpret their message. If your predictions are so correct, I wonder why the powers felt the need to warn me of your actions in one of their, oh so fun, pain filled, slayer dreams."

"You have a responsibility to your young and you broke that sacred trust tonight. I only hope that one day you can regain your standings in his eyes."

She turned and walked away when Marius called out to her, "Slayer, dark times are coming, and there is nothing you can do to stop them."

She didn't bother to stop, "You don't think I know that? What the hell do you think I've been doing these past years? Planting daises? Dark times always come."

This time she did stop and look back at him, "And I'll always be here to stop it."

And through it all, the youngest watched with newly opened eyes that saw the possibilities. Not the certainties.

**Tbc…**


	11. Neville

A/N: I doubt anyone will be reading fanfic today since it is the new release of the next book but hey, when have I ever done anything reasonable? Here it is chapter 11. Oh, and in case you were wondering this will only stay true to the books through book 5.

A/N 2: Thanks to: **Anne79** (nice call, you're right on track), **Sukera**, **Allen Pitt** (I have no plans for it but it wouldn't be a problem with working it in, and actually you just gave me an idea with their encounter. It wouldn't affect the main plotline of the story but would be a nice side story. I might have to just run with it and see where it takes me), **godessa39**, **Sarah** (I did, thanks. And there are vague hints as to what Buffy is but no specifics. That will be covered in the next story), and **onlimain** (thanks so much, I really liked that line too, DLC will be updated after I get more of this one out. Summer session II started and I find I have less time than ever, but it will be finished).

**xoxox**

_England, March 2013._

Neville looked around him with great trepidation. He had heard the fearsome rumors about the creature that lived in this cottage. Personally he had never been one to play the hero, so while the others were taunting each other about who could get the closest to the cottage without getting caught, he had always sat on the sidelines, content in his sideline-sitting. However it seemed that fate had other things in mind for him. When Dumbledore called him into his office earlier that week, the last thing he had expected was the old headmaster to request that he visit the crone who lived on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

So here he stood, the closest that he, and almost all of the rest of the students, had ever been. The only way he had managed to get his courage up enough to make it this far was the fact that he kept reminding himself that Dumbledore would never knowingly send him to his death…he hoped.

He lifted a shaking hand to the door, and very softly knocked once. He hoped that the inhabitant of the little cottage would not hear his timid knock, but apparently they did. He was about to walk away when he heard a voice from the inside calling for him, "Ah Neville, please come in."

The voice stopped him in his tracks. While he had expected to hear the voice of a crackled old crone, this voice sounded almost young, cheerful…and American?

Reminding himself that voices could be deceptive, after all he lived in a magical community where nothing was as it seemed, he pushed the door open and popped his head inside. What he saw surprised him. Most of the large room was the living room, and the furniture was centered around the fire. A smaller area to the right was the dining room. He took in his surroundings slowly. There was a cheery fire burning in the fireplace that gave the room a welcome glow. There were several large overstuffed brown chairs that looked like you would just sink in them for miles. The walls were sparsely decorated, but the tapestries chosen were tasteful and pleasant to look at. There was a small coffee table in front of the largest brown sofa that had a tray of small cookies on it. Overall the room had a welcoming feel to it that washed most of his fears away. It spoke of comfort. The table on the other half of the room was all the way against the wall was surrounded by four chairs. There was an opening into another room where he could barely make cabinets. He assumed it was a kitchen. There was a closed door in the space that separated the living room and the dinning room.

"Take a seat, I'll be right in." The voice came from what he assumed was the kitchen and made him jump. He eyed the huge overstuffed chairs and chose one facing the rest of the room so that whatever it was that he was going to face, it wouldn't sneak up on him. After all, he might be considered the most cowardly of students by half his class and definitely all of the Slytherins, but that didn't mean he was stupid.

"What brings you here?" the voice called from the other room.

He looked around the small house anxiously, "I-I was sent to see y-you."

"Of course," he heard. "I'm making tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure." He fidgeted in the chair and waited for the person to reveal them self. The fear that had washed away upon entering was slowly returning, and he began to eye the door longingly. He heard footsteps come closer and what he saw made his jaw drop.

"You know, I never thought it was possible but it seems that the British-ness of this place has finally begun to rub off on me. This tea stuff…it's not half bad." The woman was young and beautiful. There was nothing evil-seeming about her. She carried a tray that held two teacups and a teapot and smiled at him as she sat the tray down and he couldn't help but grin back. "But then I guess that when you live in a place where there staple food is tea, it's bound to grow on ya."

Neville found himself slowly relaxing listening to her chatter, the room he was sitting in was almost cozy. There was a fire in the hearth and the entire place had a well 'lived in' look to it. "I don't exactly understand why I was sent here to see you, Ms. Summers," he said as she leaned over to grab a cookie.

"Oh God, call me Buffy. You say 'Mrs. Summers' like that and I'm looking over my shoulder for my mother."

An involuntary grin spread across his face, "Your name is 'Buffy'?" he questioned.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. Believe me, I've heard it all," she grabbed a cup and filled it with tea before curling up in one of the comfortable chairs across from him. "Help yourself. I promise it's not poisoned," she said with a mischievous look in her eye.

He gave her a small grin and obediently took a sip of the proffered liquid and settled into his chair. "Thank you."

"No problem. I hear tea is customary when two people meet. But as to why you're here…well, the Headmaster thought you might need someone to talk to, and here I am." She gave a slight shrug, "You don't have to worry about who I might talk to because I mainly hang out here. You don't have to worry about any of this affecting your grade because obviously, I'm not a teacher. Think of me as the closet where you shove everything when your mom tells you to clean your room. Out of sight, out of mind."

His confusion at the situation surmounted any pain he would have felt at her offhanded mention of mothers, but her charming demeanor had erased all the unease he had felt as if it had never been. Thoughts of an evil witch or what she might hex him with flew the window as he sipped his tea and decided for the first time in his life to relax and stop worrying about what someone else might be thinking of him.

After all, like she said, out of sight out of mind. And it would be awfully nice to have someone to talk to where he wouldn't have to worry about being judged. She didn't know him and chances were, no one else in his house were ever going to come down here so it wasn't like she could just spill the beans on his cowardly self.

It became tiring putting up his façade that everything was alright. Being surrounded by so many self assured Gryffindors day in and out was intimidating. He possessed none of the qualities that so many of his class mates had. And frankly he was tired of being the odd man out.

Of course it all worked in theory, however reality reared its ugly head and when he opened his mouth to tell her of his troubles, the words stuck in his throat.

The silence stretched for long moments before she took pity on him, "You know, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. Why don't we start simple. Tell me about your family," at his slight flinch she quickly continued, "or tell me what you like to do."

"You mean in school or…"

"Anything. Whatever you want to talk about. I'm all ears."

"Um, I do well in Herbology."

"Really?" She scrunched up her face and looked at him appraisingly, "That was one of the classes I never got. I think it has something to do with the fact that it's so closely related to potions and as Professor Snape has told me on numerous occasions if an explosion waiting to happen was ever in human form it would be me."

"W-what?"

"Oh yeah," she went on enthusiastically, "he actually forbid me form ever going into his lab again. And when he kicked me out he said that the most volatile combinations of ingredients he had ever seen was me and any liquid…including water."

"You're kidding."

"Nope, I hate to say it but it's true. I believe his exact words were" her voice lowered and the English accent that had been unnoticeable up until that point sprang into life, "'Ms. Summers, if I ever see you within thirty feet of my classroom again there is not a source on this planet that will keep you in one piece.'"

He winced, "I guess I don't have it so bad after all."

She couldn't stop the laugh that escaped, "He's not all that bad. We've just come to the understanding that we work better together better outside the classroom."

"Snape hates me," he said quietly.

"What makes you think that?"

"Trust me. I'm not any good at potions, and you don't yell at someone that much in class if you have warm fuzzy feelings for them." He stopped and a look of revulsion spread across his features, "n-not that I would ever, _ever_ want Snape to feel fuzzy feelings for me." She snickered, "I just wish he would leave me alone."

"Well, what is it exactly about him that makes you freak out so bad? I mean, other than the intimidation factor."

"I-I think you covered it with the intimidation factor."

"Okay, I can understand that."

"The moment I step into the classroom I forget everything I know, and it does not help that Snape tends to hover over us while we work."

"So it isn't a matter of not knowing the material?"

"No, I study for his class constantly but nothing ever seems to stick with me."

She observed him thoughtfully, "But you said that you were really good in Herbology."

He blushed and ducked his head, "I wouldn't say _really_ good, but I do well."

"I just wonder why that information doesn't carry over into potions."

A confused expression crossed his face, "What do you mean by that?"

She reached for another cookie and chewed it slowly before swallowing, "Potions and Herbology are very closely linked. For many potions the materials need to be collected at certain times, especially the plants. A good Herbologist would be a great asset to any potions master as both tasks are time consuming. Also, if you know the ways the different parts of plants work you should be able to tell what will happen when they're combined with other ingredients."

He sat there for a few moments, stunned, mouth working soundlessly, "I-I, um, I never thought of it that way before."

"They don't really emphasize it as much in the younger years, they should, but they don't. I mean, it won't help with the intimidation factor but that's something you'll have to work at on your own. Nothing I can say to you will help."

He sighed, "I know."

A comfortable silence descended on the two, each lost in their thoughts. She thought of a snarky professor who couldn't let anyone get close and he thought of his place in the school.

"I sometimes wonder if the hat put me in the right house after all."

Her head came up as he spoke, "Why do you say that?"

He looked down at the cup clasped in between his hands, "It's just that I'm a Gryffindor. I'm supposed to be brave, but I'm a bigger coward than most Hufflepuffs. Everything scares me, and Snape is at the top of the list." He sighed and stared dejectedly at his tea.

"Wow. That must suck."

He blinked and raised his head, taken back by her bland statement. He hadn't actually expected her to agree with him, "Excuse me."

She shrugged, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'd hate to have my entire life defined by this one aspect. It sounds like the distinction has been made early on that your only value lies in a single trait you might possess."

At his confused look she settled into her chair even more and balanced her tea on a knee before launching into an explanation, "Ok, well look at it this way. You just said that Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, right?" He nodded affirmative, "And from your statement all Hufflepuffs are spineless. But where does that belief come from? Granted, the name Hufflepuff doesn't exactly inspire fear into the hearts of evildoers everywhere, but lets lay that aside for the moment.

"Your entire life at school is defined by which house you're placed in, an idea that is inherently faulty." The confused look on his face said it all. She was losing him. She could tell.

She jumped up after placing her tea on the side table and began pacing in front of the fire, "I mean think about it. What happens of you're, oh say both brave and cunning? What then? Is it the simple fact that you might be a little bit more cunning than brave that places you in one house over the other? And then after you're placed into a house to you just assume that those other traits that you show like loyalty, which by the way is so not the cowardly way, just fall to the side while you only concentrate on the qualities embodied by your house?"

She _tsk_-ed mockingly, "That just doesn't seem to me like the best way to create well rounded individuals to me."

She ended her tirade with a dramatic sigh as she threw herself onto the chair she had been sitting on. After a beat she perked up from her slouched position and continued, "Oh, and people shouldn't look down on Hufflepuffs just because they value loyalty over anything else. Sometimes it takes more courage to remain loyal to yourself and your own beliefs than it does to face down another."

The small snort escaped him as he examined her broke what little tension there was and she laughed. The conversation turned to other things and the ease he felt in her presence only grew.

She was so passionate about the things she felt she practically radiated energy. He had never met anyone like her and hoped he would have reason to come back.

**Tbc…**


	12. Visit

A/N: Sorry for the wait. It just wasn't coming to me and I really didn't want to try and force out a chapter that was sub-par (as it is I'm not sure about this one). The only reason I was able to get this one out was because I finally jumped one of the major hurdles before graduation. Which, by the way, I finally got my graduation letter (I know no one cares but me, but I thought I'd share to good news). So in celebration of that momentous event here you go…chapter 12. I do have to warn you that I don't know when the net chapter will be out. Sorry.

A/N 2: Thanks to: **Qihotex** (thanks for setting my fears at ease and for the review, and I wanted to say that I'm a huge fan of Bond Girls. It's one that I keep rereading. I think I reviewed it on TtH. I should probably go and check that to be sure), **godessa39** (Yeah, Yeah, I know. I'm getting back on the horse, but short/mutters/ Slave driver. Thanks for the review, it made me laugh), **EverAfter-01**, **Vld**, **General Mac** (congratulations, you are the 100th reviewer. Go you! You earned yourself a cookie. Enjoy), **Sukera**, **Sarah** (I have to admit that I still have not read it yet…however I do own a copy and it is sitting on my shelf waiting to be read, I swear I have no time), **granddancer**, **Toniboo**, **el**, and **Kastia**.

**xoxox**

_England, February 2014._

He sank into his cushioned chair with a heavy sigh feeling every one of his years. It was times like these that he wondered how he managed to get out of bed. His office was quiet with the exception of the fluttering of newborn wings and the quiet murmuring coming from the portraits. Little sounds that he found comforting and relaxing when he felt the stress built up as it had been doing in the past year.

The animated timepiece on the mantel read 8:23 but it felt much later and he knew it would be some time before he could retire for the evening. Things were not looking good for the wizarding world and he didn't know how much longer he could keep things together before they all fell apart.

He should have known better than to hope that most of his problems would have been vanquished with the death of Grindelwald. How naive to think there was ever an end to problems. The cycle seemed to be repeating itself as it always had. Voldemort had stepped up to fill the evil wizard's place and it seemed that the wizarding world had not seen the last of him. How he had hoped…but hope for something like that was for fools. And he was wise enough to know better.

A sharp tapping on the windowpane broke him out of his dark thoughts. He looked up at the disturbance, a small grin breaking out across his aged features. If he was surprised by the phoenix's presence he didn't let it show as he moved to open the closed window.

"My dear, please come in."

The creature moved smoothly into the room and took up the perch Fawkes would have normally inhabited had he not been more than a few hours old. The larger, more magnificent bird cocked its head at the squalling infant in bemusement before giving the old man a questioning look.

"Just count yourself lucky I am not required to see to _you_ in that state," he said with a smile before moving back to his chair. "Am I to assume that you bring news or is this a social call?"

The animal shook its head before freezing and glancing towards the door. Dumbledore followed its gaze expectantly. It was several more moments before he could hear the noise that had alerted the creature.

"If you would pardon me for a moment while I see to this?" he inquired.

The phoenix looked to the window questioningly, but he shook his head, "That will be unnecessary. Just make yourself at home while I take care of this."

The bird bobbed its head again and settled down for a wait. It wasn't long before the loud slamming noise of the door bouncing off the wall heralded the arrival of Professor Snape.

He moved into the room quickly, wasting no time in crossing over to the headmaster's desk and taking one of the seats in front of it. "This has gone on long enough Albus! For three years I have said nothing about your preferential treatment. I have sat by silently, holding my peace, because I knew your feelings on the matter," his nostrils flared in anger and he sat up even straighter in his chair, "No more will I be silent."

It was clearly a struggle but Dumbledore could not resist the smile that stole across his features, "Good evening Severus, can I get you some tea?"

"I do not want tea. I want action! I want something to be done about the menace!"

"Surely you exaggerate, Severus. I am positive that whatever was done was without malicious intent-"

But the potions master was hearing none of it, "If you do nothing I will be forced to take matters into my own hands. Drastic steps will be taken. And I cannot assure you that they will be completely painless."

Albus' blue eyes twinkled as he examined the irate man in front of him. This day had been a long time in coming. He was actually somewhat surprised that the man had held out as long as he had. "Severus, I do not think-"

He was interrupted once again by a firm knock on the door before it was pushed open to reveal Minerva McGonagall.

"Albus, if you have a moment we need to talk," she began as she entered the office before halting abruptly as she noticed the presence of the potions master.

"I apologize. I did not realize that you were in a meeting. This can wait a few minutes."

She began backing out of the room only to be stopped by Dumbledore's clear voice, "Nonsense, have a seat. If I am not mistaken I believe you and Severus are here with a common goal in mind."

At that statement both professors' eyes darted to each other in surprise and suspicion while Albus looked on in amusement. Yes, this was an interesting turn.

"I do not think that is possible Albus," she said before hesitantly moving into the room.

"Of course it is Minerva, please take a seat."

She took the proffered seat and adjusted her spectacles before shooting him a stern glare. There was a long moment of silence while all parties watched each other. It was Dumbledore who broke the tense silence, well tense on the parts of his colleagues. He just tended to feel amusement at the situation.

"Would you like to begin Minerva? What is troubling you?"

"You know perfectly well what this is about. Something needs to be done."

A small smile flittered at the corners of his lips but other that that small sign of amusement he gave no other outward reaction to her words. "Since it has driven you here may I assume that you have some suggestions to change the state of things?"

If anything she grew even angrier at his clam inquiry and forgot about the other professor in the room, "Albus! You coddle those children too much. Now I can understand that you derive a certain amount of amusement from this situation but this is unacceptable."

A sharp snort of derision sounded from the man seated next to her and she turned her glare to him expectantly. "Do you have anything to add Severus? I believe the headmaster said that you were having similar problems."

"Of course I am Minerva. However I cannot contain my surprise at the fact that it bothers you so much that you would forget who it is you were speaking to." His smirk grew, "I never thought I would see the day when you would call your own students 'coddled.' I do believe that this is one of the most interesting days I have had since I began teaching here."

A soft blush spread across her features, "Obviously things have gotten out of hand, and obviously you agree, or you would never have come here in the first place."

Albus cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to him, "Indeed, Severus had just informed me that he was prepared to take measures into his own hands when you arrived. I was about to warn him against maiming the students when-"

"What!" a look of shock suffused her features, "Severus, I know things are bad but don't you think you are taking things a bit far?"

The potions master gave a long suffering sigh before answering, "Nothing permanent will be done to your precious Gryffindors, Minerva. I was simply stating that the menace needs to be taken care of. And certain members of this faculty seem to be resistant to action," he finished with a sharp glare in the headmaster's direction.

Minerva waited a moment to let his statement sink in before coming to a decision. She gave him a sharp nod in agreement. He was right. The rule of tyranny needed to come to an end. Too long had they cowered in silence. It was time for action. Something swift and decisive.

Severus acknowledged her decision with a nod before he turned back to the headmaster, "The complaint is not just coming from us. Filius recently told me he was at the end of his rope. _Filius_ said that! We have policies in place that are supposed to keep this type of thing from happening, yet nothing is being done. They flagrantly abuse this fact because they are aware of it. Albus, you cannot allow this to continue."

"For once I am in complete agreement with you Severus," Minerva inserted. "Too long have we kept quiet. It is time for action, and as the person charged with making and keeping the rules it falls to you, Albus, to ensure they are enforced.

It was times like these that he remembered why he wanted to be a teacher so badly. It seemed that this situation could be the bridge that he was looking for. However, he was wise enough not tomention that to the irate professors looking at him expectantly and reveal his amusement, "I am not sure what it is you want of me?"

Severus slammed his fist down on the desk in front of him, the dark look on his face promising retribution, "Something needs to be done about the Wesley twins! If I walk into my classroom one more time to find it rearranged and my ingredients mislabeled I will not be held responsible for my actions!"

Slight choking noises sounded from behind the headmaster and for the first time the attention of the inhabitants of the large room were drawn past the headmaster's shoulder to the creature perched behind him.

The phoenix froze when it realized it was under scrutiny but soon relaxed to see what would happen.

Minerva quickly lost interest and turned her attention back to the headmaster waiting expectantly for a response.

Severus, however, studied the bird a bit longer before sitting back in his chair, his glower growing, "What happened to Fawkes Albus?"

His question once again drew the transfiguration mistress' attention. She looked closer at the bird an registered the subtle differences she had overlooked and then turned to the potions master,"How did you-"

"Its plumage is different."

"Fawkes is fine Severus, thank you for asking. He is, however, slightly infantile at the moment. Give him a few weeks and he will be back in form I assure you." He turned slightly so that he could see the creature as well.

It was looking back and forth between them all in interest, "Her name is Anne."

At his statement the phoenix let out a soft trill and settled on her perch to continue watching.

The noise seemed to calm the inhabitants of the room and settle tempers. Severus sighed deeply and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Every ward I have erected to keep them out, even the ones that were designed specifically attuned to them have failed. I can think of nothing else but to take drastic steps." He looked up to meet the headmaster's eyes, "And I will."

The lethal promise hung in the air for a few moments while Albus attempted to control the twitching of his lips, "Now Severus, how can you be certain that they are the culprits? How do you know it isn't Peeves?"

It was Minerva who answered his question. "Because Peeves likes to take credit for his work," she said bitterly. "He would have revealed something over the years if it was him. He would not be able to contain himself."

"But do you have any proof," Albus prodded gently.

"Why do you pretend that they are not guilty of this? Everyone knows that it is them!"

Severus nodded his head in agreement while Albus looked on with a smile. "Perhaps if you altered the wards-"

"I told you I've tried that. They're like rats. They get around everything," the potions master thundered.

Albus continued as if uninterrupted, "-to identify, instead of keeping out you would have the proof and steps could be taken."

It was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud at their stunned, frozen expressions. The heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor exchanged identical looks of disbelief. Surely it was more complicated than that.

Minerva rubbed at her temples to stave off the migraine forming, "All these years…"

Severus stood, "Headmaster I have something to do. I will return and speak with you later," his tone turned menacing, "with proof."

Minerva nodded in agreement, stood, and followed Severus out of the room. The door closed with a reverberating thud and for a few moments there was silence.

For about three seconds until resounding feminine laughter could be heard by anyone why passed the gargoyle in the passageway.

Albus gave her several minutes to get it out of her system as he chuckled along with her.

"The Weasley twins," she sputtered between breaths, "I thought it was something serious. Oh my God, I was waiting for a portent of Armageddon or something with the way they were carrying on. Seriously, do they know what they sounded like?"

He gave her a mischievous smile, "My dear, I believe they would deny this encounter to their dying days if they could."

She moved around the desk to sit in Minerva's abandoned chair and wiped at the tears caused by her laughter, "I never thought I'd see the day. It looks like that was a first step for inter-house unity right there."

"I am pleased you thought so as well," he said with a smile. "Can I get you anything?"

"No I'm good." Her tone changed immediately and became more serious, "Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. The reason I came without sending a message."

He took note of her tone and gestured for her to continue, "For the past week I've been noticing something in the forest. I wouldn't normally mention anything but this is noteworthy." She sighed, "There's something out there I haven't been able to find. I'm not sure what it is but it's smart. Smart enough to avoid me."

She tapped her fingers against the arm rest and revealed the most disturbing aspect, "And it's hunting unicorns."

A dark look crossed his features, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"This is not good."

"Tell me about it."

He sighed deeply and sunk lower in the chair once again feeling the weight of his years. She watched as he aged before her eyes. She knew that feeling. She was familiar with it. Her shoulders had carried the weight of the world for so long it was easy to see the signs in another. They were kindred in that way.

"Hey," she said softly, "get some sleep, old man. It can wait 'till morning."

He gave her a tired smile, "Buffy, I do not need you to take care of me."

She nodded, un-offended by the statement, "Yeah, but I'll do it anyways. Everyone needs someone to worry about them. Even you. I can do that."

She stood and placed a small hand over his wrinkled clasped ones and squeezed, giving him a small measure of comfort before moving to the open window, "Get some sleep. I mean it. If I fly by here later and see the light on there'll be serious words." The grin on her face belied the stern tone she used and he couldn't help but smile back. She quickly transformed and flew off into the night.

And once again he was back to being an old, tired man. However, he was an old, tired man who was cared for...and for that his heart felt lighter.

**Tbc…**


	13. Sirius

A/N: I can't believe I forgot the fact that Hagrid has a brother in book five… and that was such a major part of the story. I guess that's what happens when you haven't read a book since the day it came out. But have no fear. I can work this. Gwrap doesn't exist in this universe. Other than that, things should be the same through book five. This chapter happens during book three.

**xoxox**

_England August 2015._

It was going to be one of those days. She could tell.

First off, it was Tuesday. Nothing good ever happens on a Tuesday. Death and apocalypse happen on Tuesdays. Too bad it was one of those things that happened once every seven days.

Secondly, the centaurs had decided to take up old issues and become even more of an obstacle than they had been in the past. No more easy partnerships there.

Thirdly, the presence of those damn dementors were giving her the wiggins. It was one thing to live next to a forest that gave off a buzz which she had become accustomed to, it was a totally different thing when she was constantly feeling like a woman in the middle of her first trimester with a dash of suicidal depression thrown in to spice things up.

And fourthly, when she rolled out of bed and looked at the mirror above her dresser it had been none too cautious in telling her exactly what was wrong with her heir that morning. Ha! As if an inanimate object could tell fashion from a fruitcake. Stupid enchanted mirrors. Like she could help that she slept like something very not dead and her hair took the brunt of her restlessness. Really, who wakes up looking perfect?

_Oh yes, this is going to be one of those days_, Buffy thought to herself as she looked out the window. Her hands clutched tightly around the coffee in her favorite "smartass revving up" mug (Dumbledore got a kick out of it and asked for one on Christmas). She inhaled deeply, taking in the aroma of ground coffee beans and smiled. Sure, she had gotten used to the tea these people seemed to thrive on, but there was nothing like that first cup of coffee in the morning. The only thing that could have made it any better was if it had been one of those frothy frappichino things that Willow…

And there went the little good that there was. Right out the window and into the pouring rain.

Buffy sighed and turned her attention back to the front window, blocking out all thoughts that would bring her down. _Although_, she thought to herself, _if there was ever a perfect day for a pity party, this is it_. The rain was pouring, tiny rivers were forming, the wind was howling… oh wait. No, that was coming from the big black dog prowling around her front porch.

So much for a quiet, relaxing day.

She finally stood, opened her front door, and went out to her porch swing, all the while watching the large, black dog running covertly from tree to tree, obviously unaware of being watched. Gently, she pushed to get the swing going before settling into the wooden seat, her hands wrapped securely around the hot mug.

Something butted against her thigh and she absently mindedly picked up the small, blue ball of fluff, otherwise known as the-cat-that-followed-her-home-earlier-in-the-month-during-patrol.

It was freely affectionate, and she had to admit that there were times that it would be nice to have something to keep her company during the long hours. So far, the arrangement had worked out for the betterment of everyone. The cat got food and a name, and Buffy got a throat warmer since apparently the animal laying draped over Buffy's neck while she slept.

Sure it was blue. But that just made it seem to fit in with this world even more. Plus, who else could say they had a blue cat? Miss Kitty Fantastico would have been so jealous.

The sharp clicking of nails on wood brought her out of her fascination of the cat's ice-blue eyes (really, who ever saw a cat with ice-blue eyes). The dog had finally noticed her cottage as a refuge from the rain had mad his way into the shelter of the porch.

"About time," she muttered, "I was beginning to wonder if you preferred the freezing rain to actual warmth like normal people."

The dog cocked is head in inquiry before sitting on the doormat and waiting for a reply.

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods… again?"

Buffy shifted her body until she was at the end of the bench but kept concentrating on the small, fluffy animal in her lap, completely engrossed in the feel of blue fur and constantly surprised that the color didn't rub off on her hands.

A thin body lowered into the now available seat beside her. He was silent for only a few moments before he spoke, after all, silence had never been Sirius' strong point. Not even Azabakan was able to change that. "You never explained how you were able to do that."

"Do what?" she said with a slight smirk, never looking up.

"You knew from the beginning what I was. I have to say that it's not every day that someone is able to do that, even among our people, and yet you were. Do you want to explain that to me?"

"Sirius, you keep grasping at straws that aren't there." She leaned in close in a conspiratorial manner, her eyes still on the cat, "You know, they do teach how to spot a animagus at that school over the hill right there. And as I know you went to it…"

"Yeah I got it." His voice cracked from disuse but he still had a slight grin on his lips, however small it was. These moments of levity were all he had to lighten his load of both vengeance and protection. Even if he had almost lost his life the first time their paths crossed.

"But even so," he continued, "You knew within seconds. That's not entirely normal you know."

"Normal is overrated… or so all the normal people tell me."

"Buffy…"

"What?" her tone was all innocence.

He snorted, "One of these days I'm going to pry the secret out of you."

"Please, you say that like there's some huge mystery going on here. Even if I didn't know, Snickers doesn't like dogs." She lightly ran her hand along the bright blue fur of the animal sitting contentedly in her lap. "The fact that she's happy as a bug tells me everything I need to know."

Buffy finally looked up to see the smirk gracing his features, "So that's your secret weapon then, a two pound ball of fluff."

Both females glared at him and he wisely decided that it would be time for a tactical retreat before he lost something important. He rose to leave but the concerned look Buffy was giving him stopped him in his tracks.

"You haven't been eating, have you?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged, "Not time. I have things to do that don't allow the luxury of hunting down my next meal."

Her eyes narrowed, "So when you pass out from exhaustion, what exactly is Harry going to do then?"

"Don't talk to me about my godson," he snapped out furiously. "You have no concept of what is going on here. Don't pretend you do."

"Oh really," she stated quietly as she rose to her feet, carefully setting the blue cat aside. "And what is it exactly about this situation that I don't understand? Please, tell me what you've left out in our conversations."

"You don't—"

"Stop." She held up a small hand, "Before you say something you're going to regret. Just stop."

He only got angrier at her quiet words and opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he thought about her self-righteous assumptions that she knew what he was going through because she had been the sympathetic ear on the few occasions that he needed someone to be there for him. But the look on her face stopped him.

"Sirius, you aren't angry at me and I refuse to stand here and take the brunt of your anger because I make an easy target simply because I'm available."

His irrational anger died a quiet death at the broken expression on her face and he rapped his arms around his gaunt frame to stop the chill racing down his spine. She looked so… lost.

"I'm nothing but concerned for you. If you can take a simple question like that and twist it into an attack then there's a problem." She looked him dead in the eye and continued, "But I refuse to be your whipping boy."

He sighed and finally relaxed is defensive posture, "I didn't mean—"

"I know." Se reached out and gently tugged on his ragged sleeve in a gesture of affection and then smiled, a little of the life coming back into her expression, "You know, you don't have to keep foraging on your own." She gestured to the cottage with a slight tilt to her chin, "Dumbledore tells me that my little house is able to add on at will. Say the word and guest bedroom number one can be up and running in seconds." She smirked at him, "I'll even let you have you have your own bathroom you won't have to deal with my girly mess."

He smiled, a true smile this time, and answered in a wry voice, "While I'm sure that offer has nothing to do with the fact that the thought of sharing your bathroom with someone else is enough to send you screaming into the night and everything with being a good host I'm going to have to pass."

She opened her mouth to protest, very nicely ignoring that bathroom comment she thought, but he stopped her before the first word with a small gesture, "I'll be fine Buffy. I know the outskirts of the forest well enough to know where the trouble spots are and what to avoid. I'll be fine."

She rolled her eyes, "While I won't begrudge you your manly living-outdoors-and-becoming-one-with-nature thing you obviously have your heart set on, would you at least consider the Shrieking Shack as a shelter?" She glared at him, "Not a very good one, but a shelter."

He blinked, clearly startled at the thought, "The shack, I hadn't thought…"

"Men," she muttered as he stood there stunned, "Well, get inside. I don't have all night."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you actually think I'm letting you out of this house smelling like that and with your stomach making those God-awful noises?" She gave him a gentle shove towards the door to get him moving. "Please, I'd never hear the end of it."

He moved slowly into the warmth of her home before making a beeline for the bathroom. "Throw your clothes out and I'll wash them while you're in there," she called out right before the door slammed shut. A second later it opened again and dirty articles of clothing came flying out.

"Ungrateful dog," she muttered to herself as she moved to gather them up, just loud enough to be heard through the door. A snicker from the other side made her sure she had been heard as intended.

She paused as she picked up the last smelly garment, a thought occurring to her. "Hey Sirius," she called though the door.

"Yeah."

"What happens to your clothes when you change forms?"

She heard him burst out laughing through the wood of the door and smiled to herself. Mission accomplished.

Maybe Tuesdays were looking up.

She groaned.

If that wasn't a jinx, she didn't know what was.

**Tbc…**


	14. Giles

A/N: Wow, can I just say sorry? I forgot I had this one already written until I settled down to write the next chapter. I'm so sorry. The good news it that there is only one more chapter in this story of the series, but the bad news is that it isn't written yet and I don't know when I'll get the chance to since I have to work on _Dark Lines Crossed_ right now. Stick around though. It will get finished. And hey, I might get inspired by the reviews that you give (hint hint).

Thanks to all who reviewed.

**xoxox**

_England, December 2014._

She didn't want to be here.

God, she didn't want to be here.

She wanted to be at home curled in the large overstuffed couch in front of the fire that warmed up her whole cottage. She wanted Snickers, to be curled up at her side. She wanted to listen to Hagrid tell her about his new lesson plan while she tried to choke down some rock cakes and doge the drool of Fang. She wanted to be drinking tea with Dumbledore, because wasn't that what they always did, and worry about the prophecy that he still hadn't told her.

She wanted to be _anywhere_ but here.

She had been standing at the door for several minutes and still hadn't found the courage to actually knock. Knocking would mean returning to her past. And it was _still_ too painful for her. Years had passed but she felt the same on the inside.

Raw.

Bleeding.

But this was her last chance. While she had all the time in the world she had forgotten that her friends didn't. The people she had once called family.

Giles.

She reached for the knocker on the door for the fifth time and it registered in the back of her mind that her hand was shaking even more than it had on her previous attempts. Maybe it was because this time she was determined to go through with it.

And then it was over.

Footsteps sounded and she took a step back hoping to find some sort of balance before entering. Locks were thrown back and the knob twisted. The point of no return. And with that thought something settled in her chest and calm washed over her.

The door was answered by a cheerful looking young man with glasses in a tweed jacket. The spitting image of Giles in his younger watcher days. Looking at him she felt a small tug on her heartstrings for the simpler days when her biggest worry was that the Master might rise.

Simple.

The thought made her smile.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled her back from the memories she was lost in. The young man smiled, "Are you Buffy?"

"I'm here to see Giles."

The boy sighed in relief at the statement, "I was worried you would not make it in time."

"How is he?"

The man moved to the side to allow her access into the house, "This is not the sort of conversation we should have without some fortification."

She nodded and entered the house, silently acknowledging the fact that he never invited her in. Old habits and all that.

He ushered to a seat in a side sitting room before leaving to get a pot of tea. She took the time to look around. The room was sparsely decorated with an old style Victorian feel. She didn't see any of his old books that were so common at his place in Sunnydale, and it was just one more reminder that things had changed. As if she needed any extra hints.

Overall it reminded it of his more stuffier Watcher days. Feelings of nostalgia swept over her and she looked down at her tightly clasped hands in her lap. The man, who was really more of a boy she realized as she got a closer look, carried a tea tray with all the essentials on it.

He asked her how she took her tea and as he prepared their drinks she looked closer at his features. He really did look strikingly like Giles. If she had to guess, she would place him at about 17 years old. Dark brown, short very groomed hair. His hands were not calloused, and he didn't carry himself like a fighter. There was no readiness in him that was so typical of those who lived on the battlefield. But she had no doubt that he knew about the things that went bump in the night. He lived with Giles, there was no way any charge of his would go untrained.

She was handed a cup and she waited for him to take a seat before taking a sip. The aroma of peppermint drifted up to her and she gave a small contented sigh. But then she remembered the reason she was there and what little tension she lost with that small comfort came back twofold.

She quietly sat the tea on a side table next to her chair before turning to the boy, "How is he? Really."

The boy's shoulders slumped in defeat at not being able to hold off the questions any longer. "Not good," was the simple answer.

"How much longer?"

"A day, maybe two. Possibly less."

She sucked in a sharp breath at the news. It was finally hitting her that the man she had looked up to for most of her life was not going to be there much longer. Despite the fact that they rarely communicated she had always taken comfort in the fact that he was somewhere in the world looking after it.

She blinked back the tears in her eyes and watched as the boy in front of her yanked off his glasses and cursed under his breath, clearly not liking being the messenger of bad news. She watched in awe as he cleaned his glasses and everything fell in place.

"You're Giles' son," she whispered. But in this room where silence was absolute, her comment rang like a gong.

He looked up startled, "You did not know."

It wasn't a question but she shook her head anyways, "We rarely talked. He was busy with the slayers and I was…" she looked down guiltily at her clasped hands, "I had other things I needed to do."

"I'm sorry, I did not realize—" he stopped himself and took a deep breath before holding out his hand, "William Giles at your service."

She carefully took his hand and shook it, ignoring the surreal quality the meeting had, "I should really go see Giles now."

"Of course," he said releasing her hand, "He is sleeping at the moment, but feel free to wait in his room." He gave her a concerned look, "I have to warn you," he said carefully, "he is a changed man. His illness- well, it has changed him."

He gave her a small, sad smile before leading her to a room in the back of the house where he left her in front of a closed door before walking away. She looked at it in trepidation before gently easing it open as quietly as possible.

The room was dark, but not too dark for the Slayer. Heavy curtains were drawn across the window blocking out most of the light but she could tell from the faint breeze she felt that one of the windows was open.

This room was completely different from the rest of the house. In fact, it would have fit in well with her cottage. The large four poster bed was the focal point of the room. But she barely registered its presence before her eyes moved past it to examine the rest of the room. It had its own fire place that was cold and barren. She couldn't help the fleeting thought that it reflected the occupant of the bed.

The mantle was covered in pictures. Pictures he had saved from Sunnydale. Pictures of Willow and her daughters. Of Xander holding his wife. There was even one of Faith and Wood. There were many of William, his son, and wasn't that a staggering thought. The mantle chronicled their lives. It was everything she had missed for the past fourteen years. They had all aged so beautifully. She wished she could have been there.

It had never hit her until that moment what she had been missing by cutting herself off. Exchanging letters was not the same as real life face-to-face meetings. She had missed the human contact that came with friendship. She had missed their lives.

She couldn't help but wonder if they ever thought about her.

While she was sequestered in her own little universe they had moved on with life. She envied them that luxury, but at the same time she was so happy they were able to.

One of the pictures caught her eye and she picked it up before moving to sit in the overstuffed chair next to the bed. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the contours of her friends' faces. It was the picture that Soldier-Xander had thrust at her when she was Duchess-Buffy. They had all been so happy.

She gave a soft sigh and sat the picture to the side. She knew what she was doing. She was avoiding accepting Giles' mortality. She hated the thought that this brave man who she loved could die. He couldn't die. She was the Slayer. He was the watcher. She was supposed to die before him. That was the way it was.

Just ignore the fact that her first watcher, Merrick, died before her, and that other little fact that she had already died twice.

This was _Giles_.

He _couldn't_ die.

She wiped at damp eyes and finally looked at the occupant of the bed. It shook her deeply at what she saw. He was only a shadow of himself. The years had caught up to him. What little hair he had left was completely grey. His skin was stretched tight across his boney frame. He looked… weak. Something he had never before looked.

He had withered away.

Silent sobs shook her body as she reached a hand out to tenderly take his. She would do anything to have the bright young watcher she slowly coaxed out of his shell when they first met in the Sunnydale library.

She scooted her chair to the edge of the bed and pulled his hand closer to her. Tears were falling unnoticed on the bedspread but she was solely concentrating on the frail hand held in-between her own. She felt like praying, but she knew that it was impossible to keep him from his time.

And suddenly she knew how Willow felt when they made the decision to bring her back. If she was feeling this strongly after fourteen years of separation how bad must it have been for them when they were still close.

She could sympathize.

It was in that moment when she was lost in a maelstrom of grief that he woke. The confusion that accompanies waking faded slower than it once had. And even after some of the uncertainty had faded there was still a haze in his mind.

He came to awareness slowly. The first thing he was conscious of was the feeling of safety. His hand was being held like it was the most precious thing in the world. Like it would break at any moment. Eyes that had once been able to make out figures even without the aid of glasses failed him and he was unable to identify the golden creature kneeling over his hand, head bowed.

The figure shuddered silently and it almost broke his heart. It was all golden and light, even in the darkness of the room. It reminded him of a fallen angel praying over him for his soul. It gave his poor heart hope.

He wanted to reach out and touch it, give it some form of comfort, but his body once again failed him and he was unable to make even the slightest movement. His frustration at his failings brought forth a slight groan and the figure looked up.

She was shocked out of her misery by the almost unheard noise coming from his lips. He was awake. And for a moment she panicked, her hands involuntarily tightening on his. He was looking at her with the strangest expression on is face and she felt fear as her doubts assailed her. What if he didn't want her there? What if he never wanted to see her again?

But he said nothing, merely gazed on her face, eyes slightly unfocused. She kept the silence as she found it comforting. She didn't know how long they sat there quietly but she knew that she would have to be the one to end it. She was forcibly reminded of his mortality as racking coughs shook his fragile frame. She rose from her seat, wanting to help but not knowing what to do.

It took him some time, but he calmed and his breathing evened out.

"Do you need me to bring you something?" the offer was softly made but any peace she would have found had been shattered as she watched him helplessly trying to simply breathe. And he just lay there, looking up at her. She glanced to the side table, reluctant to tear her gaze away, and saw a glass of water sitting next to a prescription pill bottle. And his glasses. She shook her head for the fool that she was, of course he was having trouble seeing her, because he couldn't, and picked them up and offered them to him, but he made no movement. She gave a small shrug and gently placed them on his face.

He stared at her the entire time.

That voice, so familiar, but recognition flittered through his mind before fading once again to the background. A name, nothing more. But the feelings that it aroused in him were so deeply ingrained that he wondered that he didn't automatically recognize her for what she was.

An angel.

Come to take him home.

A small grin lit his face and it was even worth the small pain it caused just to see her smile back at him.

"I'm… ready," the words were barely breathed but the implications echoed throughout the room.

She couldn't deal with this. Give her apocalypses over this any day. She would have gladly jumped into a raging inferno to avoid what was happening now. She would have done anything. Anything but this.

It was pain like she couldn't believe.

She didn't have the strength to see him die.

Sobs choked her and one hand rose to her mouth in a weak attempt to keep them from spilling out of her mouth. She wasn't strong, she was weak. She hadn't seen him in years and now she decided it was the right time to see him? What kind of person was she, trying to beg for and give forgiveness in the last moments of an old man's life? She had once had years to make peace with him. And now?

It was too late.

He looked forlornly at her hands. She had released him when she stood, and he found himself missing the warmth she offered. "Are you- are you here to take me?"

A whimper escaped her and she had to force herself to remain standing. The situation was so wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way. "Giles-"

The look of wonder that crossed his face halted her words, "That's me. And you're Buffy." The statement held so much warmth and (was it) love.

She collapsed to her knees like a marionette whose strings had been cut. The flood of tears that had been held back by a thread broke and she clasped his hand and sobbed into the coverlet. Words caught in her throat and her grief overwhelmed her. She was helpless to do anything but release the emotions she had felt since hearing of his condition. Since she had received the letter telling her that he wasn't long in this world.

She was… she was crying. Why was she crying? Did angels cry? What had he done in this life that was so horrible that it brought an angel to tears? The thoughts rolled through his head without aim. Memories that were disjointed swamped him and he was flailing without anchor in the deep recesses of his own mind.

But the entire time he watched her. He instinctively knew that she could be his anchor.

And she was.

Memories of anger, and pain, and betrayal rushed through him. Torrents of suffering and misery swamped him. But through it all… there was love. Deep love.

An older woman who was always baking loved and protected him from his fears. There was the love of a friend in a person he associated with a two faced figure. He remembered being loved as a man by a woman with sad eyes and roses. A boy with a passion for the world and a desire to see it safe loved him with a pure untainted light. And her… the angel. She loved him. She looked to him to guide her.

What was that word he was looking for? Oh yes, duty. She had a great duty, and not just to him but to the world. And his duty was to her. But that word… duty, it was colored with a greater meaning. She had changed the meaning.

It sounded more like… love?

And then something clicked.

Everything fell into place, and for the first time in many months he remembered. The haze dissipated from his mind and he saw clearly what was going on. And even as the realizations were taking place, he looked to her quivering form and wished that he could change so many things. Regrets were not something he thought he could handle so late in life.

Long unused muscled strained to reach her and give her a small measure of comfort.

She didn't register the hand that was slowly stroking her hair at first. She was simply trying to keep breathing. She needed to be strong. It had been a good long while since she had last broken down like this and it shamed her that she was wasting the few moments they had left by bawling like a baby.

It took her a long time but she finally managed to pull herself back from her pain. And there he was, a sad look on his face. His hand drifted down to touch her cheek.

They so rarely showed affection, him with his stiff British upper-lip, and her with her own insecurities, that the few moments they did were held as precious. And she couldn't help but treasure it for what it was. One of the last moments they had.

"I'm so sorry Giles."

A soft smile graced his features and he lowered is hand, all strength gone, "I know. It has- it has been some time now, has it not?"

She nodded her head, unable to express herself, "And yet… you look—"

"I know," she gently cut him off, "It's why I couldn't—"

"I understand."

She gripped his hand all the tighter at hearing the finality in his voice, unwilling to just let him go. "And I too need to apologize."

"Giles, no—"

But he wouldn't let her finish, "Yes. I treated you… abominably that last year. And I left you… my duty."

She looked down, shamed at the anger that was still there because of his actions. She had no right to still feel that way, especially since he was on his deathbed.

"Tell me—" coughs shook him again and he was forced to pause and catch his breath, "tell me what you are thinking."

"Alone," mournful eyes looked at him, "I was all alone and I didn't understand what I did wrong that was making you leave. And then you came back, and you doubted me."

The words needed to be said, but it didn't make hearing them any easier, "I'm so sorry Buffy. If I had done a better job—"

"No. Giles, you were exactly what I needed. Without you I don't even want to think about what would have happened to me. You did wonderful."

"Not all the time."

"No. Not all the time."

His voice was pained when he continued, "I do not want you to… remember me in anger."

"Oh Giles," tears rolled down her face, and she forced a broken smile, "what am I gonna do without you?"

His breathing was labored, but he forced the words out, "I know… that you will— you will be fine. You are the strongest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. You have a good life… do not ever waste a moment of it."

"I'm so sorry I let this stay between us for so long," she said quickly, frantic to get the words out before it was too late, "I should have been here years ago—"

He shook is head to stop her, "No. You needed time, and I knew that." The smile that flitted across his features took way any bite his words might have had, "I just never thought you would need _this_ long."

"Giles—"

"No Buffy. Let me finish." He took a deep breath to steady himself, "I know… that there are things, we have both done, that we regret. I know that you feel guilt and anger. And I know how deeply remorseful I am. But you need to know… no matter what happens in your life, I have never regretted being your Watcher."

A sob broke free and she pressed her lips to the hand she still clasped in between her hands in a brief kiss, "You were never just my Watcher Giles. You were my father."

A joy like she had never seen shone in his eyes at her words. Although she had not yet voiced it, he took them for what they were. Forgiveness.

"There is one more thing, before I go," he managed between labored gasps for air, "You need to know that— that I believe it to be unnecessary but… I know you need to hear it."

She held on tighter, feeling him slip through her grasp. "What?" she whispered.

His eyes locked on hers for the last time and he took a breath, determined to say this final thing before he was finished… before he _could_ be finished. And as his eyes drifted closed, with his last expelled breath, he uttered the phrase she had so longed to hear from him for so many years.

"I forgive you."

**Tbc…**


End file.
